After the War
by Aduro
Summary: AU after 5th book Takes place at the final battle in 7th yr, then six years later. Englands in a depression, and Draco's returned to save the wizarding folk from economic collapse in Britain.
1. Chapter 1

The Death Eaters attacked a week and a half before NEWTS, which Harry decided- thinking about it afterwards-really was bad form. It was suppertime when the attack came, and, by some fluke, Harry was not in the Great Hall as the Death Eaters intended him to be. He was in the library studying with Hermione and Ron for the upcoming exams when Ginny came running in with the news that the wards, which had been weakening since the beginning of that year, had finally fallen. Harry immediately rounded up what DA members he could find and headed down to the dining hall.

There were at least fifty of the hooded followers and they were casting hexes and curses left and right in anger that the Boy-Who-Lived had evaded them once again. Students were lying wounded, unconscious, and worse across the floor and four house tables. Dumbledore and the teachers were fighting from the Head Table, which had been flipped on its side, protecting the students that managed to escape the initial onslaught. Harry rushed into the fray, Ron, Hermione and the others hot on his heels.

"There he is!" bellowed one of the Death Eaters, spotting Harry. "Cruci-"

"Stupefy!" cried Harry, his voice drowned out by Hermione's, Ron's, and Ginny's identical shouts. The Death Eater was flung backwards onto the Slytherin table, knocking over the cutlery and dishes as he landed unconscious. Harry noticed with a surge of hatred that none of the Slytherins seemed to be present. The green and silver table was empty, and the few bodies sprawled along the area belonged to those who had tried to flee. No doubt they had been warned of the attack and had either joined Voldemort or were hiding.

"Mr. Potter!" came McGonagall's sharp voice. "Back here now!"

Harry retreated to the Head Table and the relative safety of having the most powerful wizard of his time fighting by his side. But there were fifty Death Eaters, and they weren't relenting in any way.

"Harry, run," said Dumbledore. His voice was quiet and even though he was speaking in Harry's ear, Harry could barely hear him.

"Wha- sir?" he asked, thinking he had not heard him correctly.

"Run. Live to fight Voldemort another day. You are the only one who can defeat him. You are the wizarding world's only hope."

Harry gaped at him, then set his jaw firmly.

"Bullshit, sir. If I can't defeat him now, then I'll never be able to. And there is no way I'm leaving my friends. None what-so-ever."

"Har-"

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted at a Death Eater, ignoring the Headmaster. He was not going to leave. He glanced around. Flitwick had fallen, as had Professor Sinistra and Halloway, the new DADA teacher for this year. The Death Eaters were advancing.

CRASH! The door to the Great Hall burst open. The Death Eaters whirled around to see Aurors pouring through led by the giant form of Hagrid. Harry cheered along with the rest and he returned to the fight with renewed vigor. The Death Eaters were now on the defensive and falling fast. Emboldened by their success, Harry followed the teachers out into the midst of the battle.

"Stupefy!" he hollered, catching a Death Eater by surprise.

"Oooo, it's ittle wittle Potter!" screeched a mocking baby voice.

Harry whirled around and froze. It was her, Bellatrix, the one who had killed Sirius.

"Cruci-" she started.

"Avada Kedavra," hissed a voice from behind Harry. Bellatrix made an odd gurgling sound and then fell. Harry whipped around again to see another hooded figure. "Stupefy."

The spell whizzed straight past Harry's ear and a grunt made him turn to see another Death Eater topple. Harry turned back to the first Death Eater who was killing off his allies.

"Come now Potter," the figure hissed. "At least make it look like you're fighting me."

"Professor Snape?" Harry asked.

"How astute, Potter. Incendio!"

Again the curse did not hit Harry, but a Death Eater to his right and the man's robes were engulfed in flames.

"Expelliarmus!" he called, pointing his wand over Snape's shoulder and causing the Death Eater behind his Potions Professor to loose his wand. Harry grinned; Snape stopped short and pulled Harry back behind the Head Table.

"Professor, wha-"

"Hush, Potter," Snape commanded in a whisper. He pulled off his mask and Harry could see fear on his face. Snape risked a glance from behind the table and swore. "Potter, run," he said, his voice cool but urgent.

"What?"

"Now, Potter!"

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" Harry demanded, then stopped as the room went quiet. He peeked out from the edge.

Voldemort was in the room, standing on the far side, a black cloak hiding his features and holding what looked like a statue of a rearing horse in his hand. The horse was emitting a blue light and it slowly rose into the air, rotating around and around on its axis. Harry watched in confusion as the rays of light expanded, lengthening into long indigo tendrils. The confusion turned to horror as the strands wrapped themselves around the nearest Auror and after binding him fast, lifted him into the air.

The Aurors and Order members leapt into action, throwing curse after curse at the blue statue and light, but to no avail. The tendrils were multiplying and lifting Auror after Order member into the air where they were held fast, slowly spinning around the room.

"Professor, what is it?" Harry asked, turning to Snape.

"The weapon he was looking for in the Department of Mysteries this year," said Snape, then "Damn!"

A ray of the blue light had found the spy and knotted itself around him. He was lifted up, still struggling to join those into the air. Harry could see Kingsley and Tonks, then also Ron and Hermione and Ginny, and the entire DA. All of the students that were still alive, even those who had been unconscious were bound and floating. Moody was finally subdued and rose into the air with the rest of the Aurors, McGonagall and Lupin as well, and then finally Dumbledore.

Harry gazed at the scene absolutely terrified, he was alone. Only the Death Eaters and Voldemort were left. Slowly, the statue of the horse descended into Voldemort's open palm, although it still glowed with the blue light.

"Do you know what this is, Dumbledore?" asked Voldemort in his harsh, mocking voice as he watched the Headmaster slowly revolving. "This is the Trojan Horse, given to Odysseus by the goddess Athena, who was actually not a goddess, but a very powerful witch. You didn't realize what it was until it was too late, and now," he laughed, "there is no one left to interfere when I kill Harry Potter." He laughed again, then stopped short. "Severas!" he hissed, spotting the Potions Master revolving around the room next to Dumbledore. "You are in league with him!" It wasn't a question, it was outrage. "Don't lie to me Severas, the Trojan Horse sees the heart, it sees who is loyal to who. But tell me, how long have you been a traitor?"

Snape gave a tight-lipped smile. "Six months after I joined."

There were screams of outrage from the Death Eaters below and Voldemort's face contracted in fury.

"Crucio!" he thundered. Snape jerked violently on his bonds of blue light, but he did not scream. Voldemort ended the curse then addressed the room. "I know you are here Potter! Give your self up, or I will kill off your friends one by one."

"Don't do it Harry!" yelled Hermione, her voice joined by others.

"Silence, Mudblood!" Voldemort commanded. "Well, what is it Potter? Do you need a demonstration?"

Harry took a breath and stood up. "Don't harm them," he said, "and I'll give myself up."

"Harry, mate, no," said Ron.

"Crucio!" barked Voldemort. Ron screamed as he thrashed about in mid air.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled. "I'll give up I said."

Voldemort ended the curse. "Wise choice, Potter. Now put down your wand." Harry dropped it. "And come down here."

CRASH!

The wall to Harry's left was blasted open and the Death Eaters jumped in front of their lord, forming a line of black robes. Three figures emerged, their emerald green, silk robes visible before their faces were. Harry glared as Draco Malfoy idly brushed the dust off his clothing and stopped in front of the line of Death Eaters, his two companions, Blaise Zabini and a sixth year named Warrington, flanked him.

"Sorry we're late," said Malfoy, sounding completely unrepentant. "But we had to get changed." He gestured to the emerald robes the trio was sporting. Voldemort stepped past the line of his followers, the blue statue still in his hand.

"Is this how you serve your lord, Draco? With lateness? I expect prompt obedience."

"I'm sorry," said Malfoy, bowing his head. "It won't happen again."

"Good. Now bring me Potter."

Malfoy turned and looked at Harry. Their gazes met though Harry could not read the expression in Malfoy's grey eyes. Malfoy turned back to Voldemort.

"No."

Harry blinked. It was a simple statement, made with out anger or hatred. It was simply a 'No'.

"What?" hissed Voldemort. "Lucius, explain your son!"

The Death Eater to his right pulled off his mask in unveiled rage.

"Draco, what is the meaning of this?"

Malfoy-the younger-took a breath. Harry had a funny feeling that this confrontation was scaring him more than the one with Voldemort.

"I said 'no', father. It is a word used for refusal and disagreement."

"You are refusing your lord?"

"Your lord, father, not mine."

"I did not raise my son to be disobedient. You know what the punishment is for disobedience."

"Of course I do," said the younger Malfoy, rather hotly. "Starts with a 'C', is one of the Unforgivables, you've been using it on me since I was four. How could I forget?"

"Will you, or will you not, obey your lord?" asked Lucius, his voice deadly quiet.

"I will not," said Draco defiantly.

"Crucio!" roared Lucius.

"Protego!" shouted Draco, whipping out his wand. His shield charm was the strongest Harry had ever seen, the curse was merely absorbed into it. Lucius stared at his son.

"Very well then Draco." He turned to Voldemort who was glaring at the boy. "My lord, I would be honored if you would teach my son a lesson."

"It would be my pleasure," said Voldemort, grinning evilly. Draco glanced at his two friends and nodded. "Cru-"

Draco's two friends Disaparated to the sides of the room, Draco leveled his wand and yelled "Avada Kedavra!" But his wand was not aimed at the Dark Lord, it was pointed at the statue. The horse exploded in a shock of blue light and Voldemort screamed, staggering backwards. The ropes of blue light holding the Order members and Aurors disappeared and they fell to the ground. The Death Eaters turned on their released prisoners, intending to pick them off while they were still recovering, but then twenty students in emerald green robes poured through the door and began throwing hexes at the Death Eaters, who were forced to turn their attention on the new army that arrived.

Harry grabbed his wand from the ground and joined in. He ducked back behind the table as curses were sent his way. Draco Apparated at his side.

"Please tell me you know how to kill him, Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, or his friends, or Hogwarts, etc. The only thing I own is the plot and a computer to type it on.

OMGosh! I got reviewers! Yay. It really did just make my day.

To Alexandria J. Malfoy: Thank you so much for the positive feedback, and here's another chapter, it took me a while because its rather long.

And to Anon. (brea): Thanks for your comments, I really appreciate it. This will get some romance later on, but I am trying to keep it from being all soap opera-ish and cliché. Thanks again!

------------------

He must have gone insane. It was the only logical explanation. Here he was, Prince of Slytherin, reported Death Eater, and student of the Dark Arts, standing before the Dark Lord and openly defying him. He was scared, scared shitless. His left hand was clenched so tightly his nails broke skin.

"My lord," said Lucius, turning to the Dark Lord, "I would be honored if you would teach my son a lesson."

Here goes nothing, Draco thought.

"It would be my pleasure," said the Dark Lord, his intentions quite clear in his evil grin.

Time seemed to slow down. Draco gave the nod as Voldemort began the curse. He heard the two 'pops' of Disapparation and whipped out his wand. He had spent the past four months researching the Dark Lords new weapon and he couldn't find anything that told him how to disable it. If this didn't work, he was dead.

"Avada Kedavra!" he yelled.

The horse exploded in a flash of blue light, causing Voldemort to scream and stumble backwards. Those held by the blue light were dropped to the floor and before the Death Eaters could pick them off, his army of Slytherins emerged. Time returned to normal, and deflecting a barrage of curses, he Apparated to Harry's side and ducked behind the table.

"Please tell me you know how to kill him, Potter," he said.

"Uh, I think so," said Harry, whose green eyes looked rather stunned.

"Good," said Draco. He peered over the edge of the table at the battle. "Alright, this is how it's going to happen." Potter joined him in surveying the clashing forces. "You see the Dark Lord, Potter? How he's surrounded by the Death Eaters?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when there's a gap in the ranks, we're going for it. Follow me in, alright?"

"Follow you?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed impatiently. "Yes, follow me in. I'll be able to deflect most of the curses the Death Eaters throw at us better than you can. Besides, you have to go after the Dark Lord, we can't have precious Potter die prematurely, now can we, Potter? Damn it, Potter, stay DOWN!" The last was a yell as he yanked on Harry's robes hard enough to topple the Gryffindor as Harry jumped to his feet. "What do you think you are doing Potter?" he demanded.

"Sod off, Malfoy," yelled Potter as he struggled against Draco's grasp. "Hermione's in trouble, I have to help her!"

Draco risked another glance and saw the bushy-haired girl going up against two Death Eaters. "She's fine, Potter," he lied. "Remember she's smarter than you."

"I'm going to help her, let go of me."

"No."

"What!"

"Think Potter," he hissed into Harry's face. "We may only have one opportunity to get past the Death Eaters. You can't run off playing the hero any time you bloody feel like it, understand? It's your job to kill the Dark Lord, so you can't put yourself in any more danger."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, then stopped, thought and spoke up. "Fine, you go help her then."

Draco glanced out again. Granger wasn't doing to well. "You can't get to the Dark Lord on your own," he said, stating the truth.

There was a crack and suddenly Dumbledore was beside them. "He is not alone," the Headmaster said simply.

Draco stared at him, then at Potter who had grabbed his arm rather tightly. "Malfoy, since you are the one who won't let me go out and help my friends, I'm trusting you to make sure that they come out alright, understand?"

Draco searched the emerald eyes of his nemesis and was impressed. There was no fear, no hate, no anger. Just a realization that the only way he could truly protect his friends was by leaving them in the care of his enemy while he fulfilled his own destiny by destroying the evil that would bring them harm.

"I'll do everything I can," he promised, then raised his arm and Apparated.

He reappeared by Granger's side, just in time to block a particularly nasty dark curse that would have burned her eyes out. He then retaliated with his own bit of dark magic, thinking the spell and not saying it so that the two would not have time to block it. His spell had the effect of a lightning bolt, blasting them across the room with enough electricity to singe straight through clothing and skin.

He turned back to Granger just in time to catch her as she collapsed. Damn, he thought, as he looked her over. He was never good at healing and had no clue where to even begin.

"Hermione!" yelled a frantic voice and for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy was glad to see Ron Weasley. He stood up and let Ron take his place kneeling by Granger's side while he protected the two from the Death Eaters.

It was pure chaos and Draco thanked the stars that Granger had collapsed near the side of the room and not in the middle, or else all three of them would be dead by now. Even apart from the major battle he was having trouble blocking the direct spells thrown at them and the stray hexes. He only hoped Potter killed the Dark Lord soon.

He slashed with his wand and caused all of the Death Eaters within a five meter radius of him be blasted again with lightning. He was rather partial to that particular curse. He turned to make sure Granger was still living, but a cold voice made him whip back around.

"Well, if it isn't my wayward son." Lucius was standing in front of him, his mask off to help him blend into the crowd better and his face was twisted into an expression of loathing. "When this whole thing is over, I'm disowning you."

"When this whole thing is over, you'll be back in Azkaban and I'll be the one disowning you," spat Draco.

"Not if you are dead," said Lucius, raising his wand.

Draco slashed with his, and Lucius, recognizing his son's favorite curse, blocked it with a smirk of triumph. But Draco knew his father would be anticipating that spell and quickly followed it up with a shout of "Sectumsempra!"

Lucius stumbled backwards but managed to stay on his feet as a long gash appeared across the chest of his robes and dark red blood flowed forth. He flicked his wand and Draco pulled up a shield, then Apparated behind Lucius' back to draw the fire away from Granger and Weasley. However, because he made his Apparation rather obvious-to decrease the chance of Lucius throwing a curse their way by accident- he was unprepared to block his father's next attack.

Lucius waved his wand and an invisible force rammed into Draco, picking him up into the air and then slamming him down fifteen meters back onto the Ravenclaw table. The air whooshed from his lungs and he gasped for breath, rolling off the table and onto the floor. That jolt knocked the air back into him and he gulped it in then scrambled to his feet as his father came at him again.

"Impedimenta!" Draco managed, the curse strong even though he was still gasping in air. Lucius was flung back into the stone wall, temporarily stunned. Draco vaulted over the Slytherin table to press his advantage, bringing his wand down in a sharp rap. Lucius Apparated and Draco's curse blasted a chunk out of the wall. Draco whirled around but couldn't spot his father anywhere. He searched the sea of dueling bodies, noting with satisfaction that the Death Eaters seemed to be losing.But his unease grew as Lucius was no where to be found. He felt the back of his neck prickle and he Apparated just as his father shouted "Avada Kedavra!"

He only Apparated a few feet to the left, closer to the wall and so he was able to see the flash of green light as the curse fizzled out with no one to kill. He was shocked, staring at the cold eyes of his father in surprise. He hadn't thought his father would actually murder him. He just managed to block the next curse his father sent his way, another blasting hex. The curse bounced off his shield and shattered a window above his head. Shards of glass the size of daggers began to fall and he raised a hand to Apparate and just when he felt the familiar squeeze start to take him, a slice of fire flared in his side.

He appeared on the other side of the table, away from the glass, and staggered heavily, his hands flying to the injury. He looked down and saw the hilt of a dagger buried into his skin. There was a low chuckle and he looked up to see his father frozen a few feet in front of him, his arm still outstretched in a throw. Slowly Lucius straightened and walked to his side. The backhand sent Draco reeling and to the floor. Lucius laughed again and walked to the form of Hermione Granger, who was being cradled in Ron's embrace.

Draco gritted his teeth, pulled the dagger out, and threw it to the side. Immediately the blade and ruby encrusted hilt turned into ash and was blown away. A quick examination of the wound showed that while it was bleeding steadily, it could have been much worse. Most importantly, the blood did not show up on the silken robes and so no one could take advantage of his weakness. Ignoring the disappearing blade and the pain in his side, he pulled himself to his feet and leveled his wand at his father. Lucius was raising his wand over Weasley's head and Draco shouted "Avada Kedavra!"

There was a burst of green light and his father fell to the floor, dead. Draco stared; he had just killed his own father. He gazed stupidly at the body of his father for a moment before snapping out of his trance and whipping about to search for any more danger. He turned just in time to see the Dark Lord and Harry Potter dueling vicously on the remains of the Hufflepuff table. The Dark Lord seemed to be on the offensive, casting all of the curses and Potter was trying to block them, though he appeared to be getting tired.

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord hissed.

"Protego!" Harry countered, but the force of the spell knocked him to the ground. Draco could see the Dark Lord preparing himself for his next strike and he knew this was it.

"Now, Harry!" shouted Dumbledore.

Harry scrambled to his feet and both he and the Dark Lord shouted at the same time "Avada Kedavra!"

Green light met green light halfway and stopped. Now the curses seemed to be one, frozen in midair. Both combatants were shaking as wands were still clasped pointing at the other. Slowly the green light inched in the Dark Lords direction, but then back tracked towards Harry.

"Remember what makes you strong Harry," said Dumbledore quietly, his voice the only other sound in the room as everyone watched the green light. And slowly the green light flew towards the Dark Lord, picking up speed until it hit him square in the chest with a flash. The Dark Lord screamed once, then fell over dead.

Pandamonium broke out. The Death Eaters that remained either fled or gave in, students cheered and shrieked in happiness, teachers sobbed, the Aurors sent for medical help for the wounded, and the Order members and the DA crowded around Harry as he clasped a hand to his scar and collapsed. Dumbledore caught him and bore him out of the room, his followers tagging along.

Medi witches started arriving almost instantly and after Draco saw that Granger was being tended to, he left in search for his friends.

It was apparent the robes had done their jobs. Draco trained his army to be a distraction, to be used when the Order was at its weakest, hence the bright emerald green uniform. They were targets to be cursed at, and his soldiers knew that. Most had grown up with the Dark Arts and were therefore more qualified than the other students to be fighting, but that did not stop the fact that he and those in the uniforms knew that they would most likely be killed. And that is what had happened. He past emerald uniform after emerald uniform. He found Warrington, the dirty blond was face down, dead, and next to him, fighting to breathe, was Blaise Zabini.

Draco threw himself to his knees by his friends side and swore at all of the blood. "Medic!" He yelled frightened. "I need some help over here!" He reached out to find where the wound was but pulled back, afraid of causing more damage. "You're going to be fine Blaise," he whispered to the black haired boy. "Just fine. MEDIC!" he screamed over his shoulder as blood began to gurgle forth from Blaise's open mouth. "Oh, Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin," he chanted under his breath, feeling nausea and panic rising. "Blaise, don't die, don't you even think about dying!" He snagged a passing Medi-wizard. "Help him!" he half ordered, half begged. "I think he's dying."

The man pulled back. "I have patients to treat," he said coldly. "If there is time later we will treat the Death Eaters."

Draco stared at him in shock and fury. "He wasn't a Death Eater," he spat, rage building inside of him. "If it weren't for him, there wouldn't be anyone, anyone at all for you to treat because the Death Eaters would have bloody killed them all!"

"It's true," said a quiet voice. Draco turned his head to see Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall behind him. "If it weren't for these boys in green, I'm afraid Voldemort would have won. It would be best to care for them like the heroes they are."

The Medi-wizard stared at Dumbledore for a moment then nodded. "Stefan, I could use a hand over here!" he called to another. He turned back to Dumbledore. "You're going to have to give us some space," he said.

"Of course," said Dumbledore. "Come, Draco."

Draco hesitated for a split second then clamored stiffly to his feet and stalked towards the wall, which was relatively clear of the wounded. On the way there, he past six more green uniforms. All dead, all of them, and people still thought they were Death Eaters.

"What a waste," he muttered, leaning against the wall and surveying the damage. So many people dead, so many of his friends wore those masks and now they had paid with their lives, and most of them didn't even believe in what they were fighting for. "What a waste." He ran an aggravated hand through his hair, trying to bottle the anger that threatened to consume him.

"Draco?" asked Dumbledore softly.

He was becoming agitated, his left hand clenching and unclenching and he was grinding his teeth together. A waste, echoed his mind, what a waste! Tears pricked behind his eyes.

"Draco?"

"Damn it!" he screamed, whirling around and punching the wall with all of his might. There was a crack and sudden pain in his hand; it felt good. He rested his forehead against the cool stone.

"Draco, you're hurt. I'll take you up to the Infirmary," said Dumbledore.

"I'm fine," said Draco, suddenly realizing that his side was sending sharp pulses of pain throughout his entire body although the blood flow had slowed to a trickle.

"Blaise has just been taken up, do you want to see him?"

He did want to see him. He sighed, "Fine."

He strode out of the Great Hall, jaw locked to keep from gasping at the pain each step caused and his face set in its expressionless mask. By the time they reached the stairs, he was sweating, and by the time they reached the top he was shaking uncontrollably. But he refused Dumbledore's assistance and entered the room unaided. It was chaos. He leaned heavily against a wall and watched the disorder. Medi-witches were running here and there, grabbing supplies for those attending directly to the injured, and then running back to the bedside they were assisting. The wounded kept pouring in, along with concerned friends and teary eyed family members that were only getting in the way.

"ENOUGH!" some one finally shouted. The room fell silent as Ginny Weasley climbed up onto a chair and addressed the crowd with a magically magnified voice. "If you are not injured, get out now. I have fought too hard in this battle to see more people die because the Medi-witches could not reach the bedside of a patient because there were too many people in the way. And for the nurses, I will tell you again, if you need something do not just take it off of the tables. Ask one of the students manning them because we need to keep track of what medicines we are running out of and what medicines we can use. If you have a problem with what I just said, write a letter and drop it in the suggestion box labeled 'dustbin'. Now, if you are not working or injured, leave. If you are working here, get back to work. Thank you." She stepped off of the chair and pointed her wand at her throat. "Quietus," she said and her voice fell back to normal. She looked up and noticed that every one was still staring at her. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she yelled, and the room burst into action once more.

This time, there was a semblance of order in the chaos.

Dumbledore chuckled. "She does take after her mother in organizational skills," he said in Draco's ear. "Now then, shall I take you to see Mr. Zabini?"

Draco nodded and pushed himself off of the wall, but his side flared with a pain so intense that black swam in front of his vision. He vaguely realized that the strangled cry of pain came from his own lips and that Dumbledore was immediately steadying him and calling for assistance. He blinked rapidly to clear his sight and tried to pull away from the Headmaster. His movements however caused his wound to bleed even more and his vision grew dim again from blood loss. He crumpled to the floor even as a Medi witch ran to his side and then the black rose up again, and buried him.

--------

R & R ( and I'm not talking about railroad crossings)

Just drop a line and let me know what you think


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it.

I'm soooo sorry it's taken me forever to update, but it really isn't my fault. I just moved into my college which is around 300 miles away, and then I had to get my laptop all checked out and then our internet connection didn't work and we had to get that fixed. So, yeah. But it's all good, and here's the next chapter.

---------------

He fought the darkness that held him under, not liking the feelings of helplessness and vulnerability it brought, but it was a strong force. The black was punctuated with visions of faces leaning over him and hands touching him, touching his chest and then his side, and that always brought pain. He tried to get them off of him, but he was never awake enough to fight them off completely. Or maybe the faces and the pain was the dream and he wasn't asleep enough to make it stop. The questions caused his head to ache and he was pulled under, struggling all the way.

He woke up suddenly, not knowing why, but discovering that he was in a bed in the infirmary with the privacy curtains closed. Light was filtering through the material and he became aware of soft voices across the room, which must have been the stimulus that woke him up. He listened in, identifying Potter's and Dumbledore's voices.

"It was just like you said, sir," said Harry. "how love was the power I had that he didn't know. When the curses met, I could feel all of his hate and loathing through the connection. But then you said to remember what made me strong, and I thought of all of my friends and how I loved them, and he couldn't handle it."

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "you see it is very easy to hate someone, but to love them, to truly love them through all of their faults, takes true strength, and he couldn't do that."

Draco frowned, what sort of rubbish was that? He tuned out the conversation, and took stock of his condition. His hand, which he was sure he had broken, was now fully functional and only slightly sore. He was shirtless and his lower torso was wrapped in bandages, and experimenting slightly, he was able to sit up with out too much pain. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was early morning, meaning Pomfrey would be coming in soon. He wondered if he could leave before she came in.

Slowly he eased out of the bed and stood, albeit a little shakily. The floor was frigid on his bare feet, and the white pajama bottoms did little to conserve his body heat. He found the button up shirt and pulled it on, fastening the buttons as he silently slid the curtain open a tad. Harry and Dumbledore were still talking in another closed off section and he slipped out and headed towards the door, his bare feet making no noise as he crossed the room. All of the beds were in use and all had the curtains pulled shut. He frowned again and reached out to turn the handle.

"I would advise against that, Mr. Malfoy," said a voice behind him.

Draco whipped around, hand reaching for his wand that was usually in his pocket, but it wasn't there. It was Dumbledore, and by his side was a very ill looking Harry Potter.

"Is that so?" he asked coolly, trying to regain his composure after his shock.

"Yes, unfortunately the entire wizarding news world has decided to camp outside these infirmary doors in hopes to get a picture or statement from those who fought in the battle, and as many in here are seriously injured, peace and quiet is a must."

"I see," said Draco.

"And now would be the best time to step away from the doors as Poppy will be entering soon." He guided Harry to the side, one hand on his elbow, and Draco noticed that Harry seemed to need the support.

He followed them over to the side just as the doors opened, emitting a very harassed looking nurse followed by a horde of doctors. Flash bulbs went off, and people shouted questions that could not be distinguished from all of the voices. Draco got the impression that the entire hall was filled with reporters just waiting to descend like a flock of vultures on a piece of raw meat.

"Those imbeciles!" Madame Pomfrey hissed once the doors were shut, effectively cutting out the noise. She glared at Harry. "And what do you think you are doing?" she demanded, outraged. "Right back into bed this instant!" She rounded on the person accompanying the boy hero. "Albus, what do you think you are doing having him out of bed! His link with You-Know-Who was severed rather abruptly when he cast the curse and I have no idea how this is going to affect him!" She turned to Draco. "And you, visiting hours are - you!" She cut off, finally recognizing him as her patient. "What are you doing up! You've been delirious with an infection induced fever for two days straight!"

"Two days?" Draco asked.

"Yes, two days. And here you are, wondering around with bare feet and your shirt half open. Really! Back to bed. Now."

Draco turned to Dumbledore. "What did I miss sir?" he asked. "While I was out, that is."

"I believe I shall tell you everything, after you get back in bed."

Draco consented to this, there was a firmness in Dumbledore's voice that left no room for argument. He walked back to his bed and climbed under the covers; it was cold in the room. He watched Dumbledore help Harry back into his own bed as Harry was beginning to shake from the strain of being up. His eyebrows knitted as he observed his deathly pale nemesis until the Headmaster shut the curtains around the bed. Dumbledore walked over to his bedside and conjured up a chair.

"He'll be fine," said Dumbledore, noting the direction of his gaze.

Draco suddenly realized that he was staring at Potter's curtains with a look of concern on his face. He quickly slipped his cold, uncaring mask back on. "Pardon?" he asked nonchalantly.

Dumbledore studied him thoughtfully with his light blue eyes and then he smiled, almost indulgently. "What do you wish to know?" the Headmaster asked.

Draco felt that Dumbledore had just seen straight through his mask and jumped on the change of topic. "Is Blaise alright? Is there anyone else left?"

"Mr. Zabini is recovering well, however, his leg was crushed and while he can still walk, he will have a limp. Miss Parkinson survived with only minor cuts and bruises and a Mr. Randell, the fourth year one, is temporarily blind although his sight will probably return."

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not his brother?"

"No, no one else," said Dumbledore. "I'm sorry."

"Are all the Death Eaters in custody?"

"A few escaped, but not many. Severas has given us the complete list of those involved."

"Sev?" asked Draco, opening his eyes in surprise at the mention of his godfather. "He what?"

"He gave us a list of – Oh," said Dumbledore. "You didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" asked Draco completely confused and not liking that feeling.

"Severas was a spy. He has been for sixteen years now, that was why the Trojan Horse bound him as well. Didn't you see him when you came in?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I- I guess I…" he trailed off. Suddenly it was all clear, all of the advice Sev had given him, telling him to think before he acted, to not let power blind him, to truly examine everything before accepting anything that would affect his entire life. "All this time he was telling me not to join the Dark Lord, and I never realized that it was because he wasn't on his side, I just thought-" he stopped himself abruptly. Dumbledore may be the leader of the light side, but that didn't mean Draco fully trusted him.

The Headmaster tilted his head slightly to the side and studied him again. "I owe you an apology, Mr. Malfoy" he said finally. "I fully expected that you would turn out exactly like your father, and I never thought…," he shook his head and looked him directly in the eyes. Draco couldn't move, it felt as if Dumbledore was peering into his very soul. "I am rarely wrong about people, and that is because I am an open minded person, but even I can fall under the terrible curse of prejudice, and I did with you. I am sorry."

Draco pulled his eyes away from that fathomless gaze and ran a hand through his hair, pulling on it slightly, a childish habit of discomfort he subconsciously reverted to now and then.

"I shall leave you to get your rest," said Dumbledore. "You are most likely tired. You may see your friends when you wake up and no doubt you will be leaving the infirmary in the near future."

Dumbledore got up and smiled at him as he closed the curtains around his bed. Draco lay back on his pillow, his mind full of things that needed to be sorted through and analyzed, but he found that he was rather tired. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

He woke up around noon and Madame Pomfrey gave him lunch, then led him to Blaise's bed. His friend looked up at him with his usual easy smile.

"There you are, Drake," he said. "Was getting a little worried about you."

"How are you doing Blaise?" he asked, pulling the bedside chair closer and sitting down, looking over his friend. Blaise was flat on his back, his left leg propped up on cushions and wrapped in an all encompassing brace that ran from his foot to mid thigh. He had on shorts and a t-shirt and the blankets were kicked to the bottom of the bed.

"I'm alright," said Blaise. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"You were dying when I found you," said Draco, thinking back on the battle, Blaise bleeding and on the ground, Harry dueling the Dark Lord, Lucius trying to kill him, the knife in his side. He froze, feeling his blood go cold.

"Drake? Draco what is it?" Blaise asked, concern apparent in his voice.

"The knife," said Draco, softly, touching his side.

"What about the knife?" asked Blaise.

"When I pulled it out," said Draco. "It disintegrated."

"Wait, it what?" asked Blaise, starting to sit up, and then laying back down with a grimace. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Draco. "He threw it, it hit me right here, and when I pulled it out, it went straight to ash."

"What do you think was on it?" Blaise asked, his brown eyes filled with worry. "Poison?"

Draco shook his head. "Pomfrey would have mentioned something. Knowing Lucius, it was probably some dark curse. It looked old, must have been a heirloom"

"But you're fine, right?" asked Blaise. "I mean, wouldn't have you already been affected if it was a curse?"

"I don't know," Draco admitted. "But most of the older curses took a while to become noticeable."

"Or, maybe it's so old the curse faded. It's happened before," said Blaise, anxiously.

"Maybe," said Draco, knowing that the chances of his father using a faded curse were near nonexistent. "That's probably it," he agreed. "It did look really old from what I could see of it."

He was spared making any further empty reassurances by the door opening. They both turned to see the Weasley siblings and Granger slip in through the doors accompanied by the shout of questions and the many flashes of cameras.

"Harry!" called Hermione, spotting her friend and running over. She gave him a hug, then waved the two red-heads over.

"Ron," said Harry, "Ginny, I'm – I'm sorry about your dad."

"It's okay, mate," said Ron, giving a tight smile. Ginny nodded though tears threatened to spill out of her bright eyes.

"What happened to their dad?" Draco whispered to Blaise, watching the three crowd around Harry.

"He was killed in the battle," Blaise whispered back. "Your dad killed him."

Draco nodded, a horrible, guilty, dirty feeling in his throat. "How?"

"Avada Kedavra," said Blaise quietly.

Draco looked back at the Weasleys, and, as if feeling his gaze, the four turned and stared at him.

"Ron, don't do it," said Hermione.

"Do what?" asked Ron, a murderous edge in his voice.

"What you're thinking about doing," said Hermione.

"So you're saying I shouldn't kill him? Well, I say there are too many Malfoys in the world. I would be doing the entire race a favor by killing one off."

The door opened and McGonagall rushed in, followed by Madame Pomfrey.

"Draco dear," said Madame Pomfrey, rushing over. "I need you to stay seated, alright?"

"Why?" asked Draco, looking at her in askance, then at McGonagall. There was pity in her eyes. "What's going on?" he demanded, starting to get up.

"No, no, no," said Pomfrey. "You need to sit down. You need to sit down and stay calm, alright? Can we do that?"

"No, _we_ can't," said Draco, standing up. "What is going on." It was a statement.

"Please sit down, it may be a shock," Pomfrey began.

"Your mother committed suicide," said McGonagall bluntly. "An hour ago."

Draco actually stumbled back a step, but he caught himself and then turned away from them. His hands ran through his hair and started tugging again. "How?" he asked.

"She hung herself," said McGonagall. "I'm sorry. If you would like to talk-"

"I don't want to talk," said Draco. He turned back around and saw the four

Gryffindors staring at him with looks of horror on their face. "I've got to get out of here." He brushed past them all and headed towards the door, but McGonagall stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Not that way," she said. "Come this way." She handed him a blue soft dressing gown and led him to the fireplace. "Put that on." He did so and she took a bit of floo powder and through it in the fire. "Potions Lab," she commanded and turned to Draco. "Don't stay too long and try to pull Severas away from his potions, alright?"

Draco nodded and stepped into the flames. The heat licked pleasantly at his body and then spewed him out into the dim, damp lighting of Severas' private potions lab.

----------------

So , I'm thinking about writing shorter chapters, but updating sooner, maybe like one chapter a night. Would that be good even if they're not as long?

Review and let me know what you think of that, and also how you liked the chapter. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but that is rather obvious, because if I did, I would be on a cruise in the Caribbean. Every day. For the rest of my life.

So, I got one review (thank you to zippyzany) saying long chapters are better even if it's only updated once a week, and since no one else has told me what to do, I'll go with that for now. But I will try to keep updating maybe twice a week, I'll see if I can do that and keep up with college work.

Alexandria J. Malfoy- you're on to something with the suspicious knife comment, although anything more won't really be revealed until later, much later, thank you so much for reviewing!

So next chapter.

----------------

It was a testimony to how angry Sev was that he had five potions brewing at once, and they were not easy potions. Draco could pick out Esinger's Anti-dote, a cure for most snake bites, a Polyjuice potion in its final stages, two that were so early on that Draco couldn't tell what they would be, and Snape's favorite, Veritaserum. Sev's hands flew over the cutting board, the knife he wielded a mere flash of silver in the dark room. Draco perched on the edge of an unused table to get his bare feet off the freezing stone floor and watched his god father work. He knew this was the only place Sev let his guard down and it was not unusual for Draco to come in unnoticed. He was only waiting a few minutes when Sev glanced his way and spotted him.

"Draco," he said, returning to his ingredients. "I thought you might want to talk. I'll have a thirty minute free period in a few seconds, let me just add this dragon scale."

"Okay," said Draco, pulling the dressing gown tighter against the chill. Severas finished dicing the scale, his deft fingers making the chore seem incredibly easy with his sure, quick slices. He dropped it into the cauldron over the fire and gave it a quick stir.

"Come into my office before you freeze to death," said Sev, leading the way through the door and into his warm private office. Draco liked this room. It had a comfortable black suede sofa, and matching armchairs with throw pillows situated around a fireplace that was always lit and burning. Sev's desk and bookcases were in the corner, lit by several candlebra.

Draco immediately went to his spot, the far end of the couch, and sat, tucking his feet under him to keep them warm. Sev handed him the blanket from his armchair and settled in, and let Draco initiate the conversation.

"Mum hung herself," said Draco, finally.

"And?" asked Sev.

Draco shrugged. "I killed my father, and then my mother killed herself. And that makes me a murderer, two times over." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Rather ironic, don't you think? I didn't join the Dark Lord because I didn't want to become a murderer, and now I've gone and killed the two people who loved me most."

Sev looked at him, and shifted almost uncomfortably. "Draco, Lucius didn't, he didn't-"

"I know. He didn't love me" said Draco, quiet and resigned. "Narcissa didn't either." Snape looked at him surprised. "Oh, she cared for me, in a sort of way, the way one cares for a cat, you know. The distant 'How are you today' the occasional playtime, and the 'As long as you're here, I'll pet you for a while but only as long as you don't get cat hair all over me'. But at the same time, they were the only family I had, besides you Sev, and I – I think that I…" he trailed off, not wanting to admit to himself how he felt.

"You loved them," said Severas. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Draco. They were your family."

Draco shook his head. "I don't love them," he said forcefully, as if trying to convince himself. Why would he be trying to convince himself? He hated them, he knew he did. _Do you hate them?_ asked a mocking voice in the back of his brain. Of course he hated them he told the voice. _No you don't_ said the voice again. Yes, he did_! You loved them._ NO! "I hate them. I hate them! They hated me!" He was hyperventilating now. He could hear his ragged gasping and tried to breathe deeply. He was in control, he was a Malfoy, Malfoy's did not hyperventilate. He could practically hear his father's voice screaming at him. _You are a Malfoy, control yourself! You stupid little boy, why are you crying?_

_Five year old Draco Malfoy stared up at his father, tears sliding down his pale cheeks, falling from sky blue eyes like rain. On one side of his face was a large red mark, in the shape of a hand print, and it was already starting to bruise._

_"You hit me," he whispered._

_And why did I hit you?_

"He hated me!" Draco yelled. "He hated me, so I hate him!"

_Draco, why did I hit you?_

_The blond child sniffed and wrapped his arms around his trembling body. "'Cause I was being bad, and I have to be good."_

"I hate you!"

_That's right. His father looked down at him coldly, no warmth in his grey eyes for his son. Why do you have to be good, Draco?_

_"So you love me," the little boy answered._

_And do you want me to love you?_

"You hate me."

_"Yes, daddy."_

_And do you love me, Draco? Do you love your father?_

"NO!"

_"Yes, daddy."_

_Yes daddy what?_

"No!"

_"Yes, I love you, daddy."_

"No," whispered Draco. "I don't love you. I don't. You hated me! Why can't I hate you? Why!"

It was only when Severas grabbed his hands that he realized his godfather was sitting next to him and that he was pounding his fists into the Potion Master's shoulders. He collapsed into his godfathers embrace and cried for the first time since he was five years old. And he sobbed for his mother, and for his father, and for every one of his Slytherins he had led to their deaths. And then he cried for himself. Sev held him tight, whispering words in his soothing voice that Draco couldn't quite make out.

"Why can't I hate him?" he whispered when he couldn't cry any longer.

"Because you're better than him," said Severas. "Because you are stronger."

That was the second time that day he had heard it, coming from the two wisest wizards in the world, and so he left it at that. Sev's potions alarm rang and Draco pulled away, wiping the tears roughly from his face, embarrassed.

"I'll be back in fifteen," said Snape, squeezing his shoulder and heading back out to his lab.

Draco glared, angry at himself, and yet at the same time feeling a bit of relief. The weight he had been caring since he awoke seemed lessened and he walked over to the bookshelves to find some thing to occupy him while he waited, he couldn't stand being bored. He paged through a couple of potions texts, then spotted a small, battered book that had slipped between two shelves. He pulled it out, noting the ancient yellow pages and red leather cover. The title was indented into the binding, _Cursed Weapons_. Draco stared at the book, and then flipped through it. He stopped when he saw a sketch of the knife Lucius had impaled his side with. The picture in his mind and the picture on the page were exactly identical, there was no way the similarities were coincidental. He shoved the book into the waistband of his pajamas and as it was a relatively thin book, the dressing gown covered any bulge there might be. He wanted to read it now, but knew that he wouldn't have time without Sev coming back and finding him and that would bring up a lot of questions.

He wandered the room, stopping to look at Sev's desk and discovered a heap of letters. Not just any letters. Letters that were covered in pink ink, or purple scrawling hand writing. Letters that smelled strongly of perfume, or sported the smiling faces of many attractive witches, constantly simpering or primping. He frowned.

Sev found him a few minutes later in his chair, feet on the desk, and reading a few of the letters, a smirk on his face.

"Marriage proposals, Sev?" he asked, figuring this was why Severas had been upset enough to brew five very complicated potions at once.

Sev scowled, grabbing the letters from his hands and desk top and chucked them all into the fireplace.

"Care to explain?" asked Draco.

Without a word Sev pulled a few Daily Prophets from the shelves and plopped them on the desk in front of Draco.

"'You-Know-Who Vanquished by Harry Potter. Read how the Boy-Who-Lived prevailed'," read Draco. The newspaper had Potter's face, smiling awkwardly, plastered on the remaining space and had been released an hour after the final battle. He moved onto the next issue, which had been released only a few hours later. "'The Order of the Phoenix: The Organization that Opposed the Dark Lord. How the OOTP helped save the wizarding world'." This page featured pictures of McGonagall, Lupin, and Dumbledore. He went to the next, again released a few hours later from the previous. "'Albus Dumbledore, Leader of the OOTP, and how he helped Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who'. I'm not really seeing anything to be upset about Sev," said Draco looking up.

"Look at the next one," said Severas gloomily.

Draco dropped the article on Dumbledore on the desk and stared at the paper in front of him. On it was a picture of Sev with his greasy hair and large nose and he was glaring, his black eyes particularly threatening.

"'Severas Snape, the youngest Potion's Master ever, professor at Hogwarts, Death Eater, and Spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Read how this brave teacher joined the company of evil, brought back vital information and how he saved Harry Potter's life'," Draco read. He looked up. "You saved Potter's life?"

Sev shrugged. "Stepped in front of Nott's Crucio when Potter began dueling the Dark Lord. There wasn't time to block it."

"And this is why nearly every eligible witch with a fetish for bad boys wants to marry you?" he asked, gesturing to the paper.

"I assume so," said his godfather grimacing.

Draco smiled and then became serious. "Why didn't you tell me that you were a spy? I wouldn't have told anyone, and I'm just as good as an Occlumens as you. Were you afraid that I might let it slip?"

"No," said Severas at once. "Here, come sit on the couch with me."

Draco got up and sat in his spot again, Snape next to him.

"I know you wouldn't have told, Draco, and that there is no way you would let it slip. But if I got exposed and captured, and I broke and I let them know that you knew all along I was a spy, they would kill you. I couldn't take that risk, Draco. I love you like you were my own son, and I didn't want to put you in any more danger. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded. "I'm glad you told me all of that stuff, about thinking things through and deciding for myself. If you hadn't, I might have-"

"Don't dwell on what could have been," said Sev, silencing him. "I am very proud of you, you know that right? When the Trojan Horse had captured me, and you came in and saved every one, I couldn't have been more proud. I want you to know that."

Draco felt his lips quirk upwards in a smile. Those words meant more to him than all of his money at Gringott's, but he couldn't find the words to tell Sev that, so he did the most un-Malfoy like thing in his life, not counting the defying of the Dark Lord that is. He reached out and hugged Severas. He could feel his godfather's surprise but after a moment, Sev returned the embrace.

They both broke apart a second later for the hug was too openly affectionate for both of them, but Sev understood what Draco couldn't say.

An owl flew into the room, a Daily Prophet clutched in his beak.

"Another one," scoffed Severas. "How many more people can they write about? Honestly, they have one on that Weasley boy and Granger, and also one on Hagrid, Minerva, Lupin, the entire Weasley family, not to mention the late Sirius Black. Disgustingly sentimental, that one. Well, you should head back to the infirmary, Draco."

"Must I?" asked Draco, knowing Severas wouldn't give.

"Yes, you must," said Severas. "The floo is on the mantelpiece."

Draco sighed, but did as bidden. The flames went green and transported him back to the infirmary where Harry was still surrounded by visitors. He began to make his way to his bed, but something popped out of the fire behind him. It was a Daily Prophet and on it was a note from Sev. 'Who's laughing now?' it read. Draco pulled the note off and stared at his face smeared across the Daily Prophet. 'Draco Malfoy Defies You-Know-Who, Saves Harry Potter and the Wizarding World' 'Malfoy kills Lucius, Mother Commits Suicide' 'Shocking Revelations of the Malfoy Heir and his Childhood'. Draco stared at the headlines, then back at his picture, staring out with cold grey eyes and a smirk playing on his lips. It was the one in the Hogwarts yearbook for the seventh grade.

Draco scowled and tossed the magazine into the nearest dustbin and after closing the curtains around his bed, pulled out the book he had stolen and began to read.

---------------------

Please read and review. Let me know what you think, if you like it, if you hate it, just let me know so I know how I'm doing. I'm thinking two or three more chapters in the seventh year, and then its going into the depression like the summary says and the real fun starts!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; otherwise I would be skipping college and partying. Every day. For the rest of my life.

Alright, embarrassing moment time. It was recently pointed out to me that I am spelling Snape's name as "Severas" and not "Severus" like it's supposed to be (thank you zippy zany). The reason is, I have a friend whose name is Veras, and because I email him a lot, my fingers go right to the 'as' instead of the 'us'. Ooops. So I will try to start spelling his name like it's supposed to be. Sorry, (cringes as tomatoes are thrown) it's just a subconscious thing.

Thank you so much to my reviewers, I've got 12 reviews! As this is the first fanfic I've ever written, it means a lot to me. Special thanks to Alexandria J. Malfoy for your reviews, I'm sorry I can't spill the beans yet.

Thanks to GoldenFawkes as well, yeah, got Zabini's name right, just can't spell Severas, blah! See what I mean. Severus, Severus, Severus. Kk, got it. And thanks also to greensun, DCod and Spaghetti O's. If I could give you all cookies, I would.

So, I finished the fifth chapter tonight and I'm jumping right into the sixth, if that's not devotion, I don't know what is.

--------------

Draco woke up the next day to raised voices.

"You most certainly will not!" exclaimed Poppy in an indignant voice. "He is injured. This is an infirmary, not a law office."

"I realize that ma'am," said a deep voice that Draco recognized as the family lawyer, who was actually a decent man. "But I do need to get this sorted out right away. He is the heir to the entire Malfoy fortune and that entails quite a bit of business that really must be settled as soon as possible."

Draco got out of bed to rescue his solicitor from the grasp of the enraged medi-witch.

"I don't care if you've got business with the Minister himself," said the nurse in self-righteous anger. "I will not have you waking Draco!"

"Well, then everything is fine," Draco said smoothly from the now open curtains. He turned to the middle aged man in the Armani Muggle suit. "Good morning, Mr. Shey. I trust you have come to settle the family estate?"

Shey smiled broadly at the sight of him. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy. If you are up to it, that is."

"I am. Madame Pomfrey, I trust that I may use your office for some rather important matters that must get discussed," he said, in his most dignified voice that would have made the Minister look like a mere secretary.

"I suppose," said Pomfrey dubiously.

"Splendid," said Draco grandly. He turned and led the way into the office, Shey at his heels. Once they were in and the door was locked and sound proofed, Draco grinned and shook hands with the lawyer. "Good to see you again, Bernard."

"And you Draco, though I'm sorry about the circumstances."

"Yes, they are unfortunate," said Draco, dismissing the sympathy. He didn't want to think about it right then, not when he had work to do. "So what brings you here?"

"Well, for one thing to pass over the deed to the Malfoy Manor, it's all yours now. You just have to sign here."

Draco took the parchment and read it over before signing.

"Very good, Draco. At least you picked that up from your father and not his other traits," said Shey. He smiled at Draco's raised eyebrow. "Lucius was a very good businessman, I have no doubt you will be as well."

"Thank you," said Draco. "Now what else is there?"

"Quite a bit actually. Not only did you inherit the Gringott's account, but also the family business. I understand if you just want to sell it, or liquefy it into an actual monetary sum."

"No," said Draco. "I want to keep it running, but I'm pulling the support from a few of the businesses that I don't agree with."

"You sure about this Draco?" asked Shey. "It's a lot of work, and don't you still have school to finish up?"

He did. He had forgotten about the NEWT's that would take place in a little over a week, but once his mind was made up, he hardly ever changed his decision. "I realize that," he said, "But I'm willing to give it a go. I want to do this."

Shey looked at him then smiled. "Alright then, Malfoy Enterprises will stay open, and I think I have something that will make your job a little easier. Your father always refused but it really is more practical." He pulled out a cell phone. Draco recognized it from all of the times Bernard had tried to get Lucius interested in it by explaining to him, very in depth, on how they worked and why it would be good. "I'll get you a computer as well," said Shey. "After schools out that is."

"Good," said Draco, taking the phone and turning it over in his hand.

"Alright, now pay attention Draco," said Shey, getting into his business mode. "I'm going to tell you exactly what running this company entails, and what you have to do to keep it successful. Malfoy Enterprises is basically a company that invests in other trades. It was founded in 1856…"

Draco exited the office two hours later with his mind on overdrive. He never knew how much it actually took to keep a business running and he was beginning to think he had bitten off more than he could even fit on his plate.

"You'll do fine, Draco. Remember, if you have a question, just call me and I'll help you out, okay?"

"Okay," said Draco, shaking his hand at the door.

"You'll do fine, I'm sure you will."

"Thanks Bernard."

"No problem, Mr. Malfoy. I'll send over all the files as soon as I get them from the office. Now you'd better step back from the door, those reporters are still there."

Draco did as he suggested and watched him leave. Once the door was shut, he returned to his bed but Pomfrey stopped him.

"If you are well enough to go conducting 'rather important matters' and start running a business, then you are well enough to return to your own rooms," she said, sounding miffed that he had abducted her office.

"Finally," said Draco, not at all upset.

"After your check-up," said the nurse. "Sit on the chair and take your shirt off."

Draco sighed, but complied, the sooner this was over this the sooner he was gone. He flinched slightly when the nurse's cold fingers grazed his skin.

"Seems to be healing well," said Pomfrey, examining the wound. "It doesn't need to be wrapped anymore."

"So I can go?" asked Draco.

"Yes," said Pomfrey.

"Brilliant," said Draco, standing and pulling the pajama top down.

"Go get dressed and collect your things," said the nurse, already moving on to check on Harry.

Draco didn't have to be told twice. He practically ran to his bed and pulled the curtains shut. Someone had brought up his clothes, and Draco suspected Pansy did so as his garments were not wizarding robes but jeans and a sweater. She knew that he hated his robes because Lucius always bought them for him and so Draco ended up dressed like his father. He changed quickly, his side only twinging once when he pulled the sweater over his head. He then dumped the rest of his things into his bag and shouldered it, sticking his wand into his back pocket.

He emerged from the curtains to see Harry getting fussed over by Pomfrey, and Potter didn't look to happy about it.

"He gets to leave!" he heard Potter whine.

"Mr. Malfoy did not have a link severed as abruptly as you, Mr. Potter."

"But he was _stabbed_," said the black haired boy. "That's a lot worse than getting some link severed."

"It is much easier to heal, though," said Pomfrey, moving away to shut the curtains again.

Harry looked up and saw Draco watching him.

"Sucks to be you Potter," said Draco, but rather than sneering his comment was sympathetic.

Potter sighed. "Have fun, Malfoy."

Draco nodded and Harry's curtains were shut. He walked to the door and paused in front of them, preparing himself. He knew they were there, reporters waiting to flock onto him. He took a steadying breath and pulled open the door.

His first split second thought was that the hall looked like it was full of refugees. Reporters, cameramen, journalists, and announcers for the Wizarding Network were all camped out in the hall, most sitting on the floor as they revised notes or amended their speeches. Some were talking into microphones that carried their words live to wizards across the nation who were pressed up against their radios. But as soon as he had opened the door, everyone had whipped around to see what had happened, froze for a second, and then they descended.

It was a mad rush to get near him. People were shouting in his ear, waving notebooks and hands to get his attention. Microphones were shoved in front of his mouth while their owners begged him to talk. Flash bulbs went off in his face, blinding him.

"Mr. Malfoy, what brought about your change?"

"Why did you decide to help Harry Potter?"

"Is it true you killed your own father?"

"How is-"

"What happened-?"

"Who made you-?"

Draco was caught in the sea of humanity, all jostling him, pressing close to him. He shoved through them, shouting "No comment!" and finally broke free when he reached the adjoining hall and passed through some sort of invisible barrier, because the reporters pulled up short, still shouting questions, but unable to move any farther. He smirked and turned the corner heading out of sight.

The hall was empty and he realized that it was because the students would be in class. He stopped off at the Slytherin common room and exchanged the contents of his bag for his school books. It was Potions time and he would be twenty minutes late. He didn't bother hurrying; Sev wouldn't mind, plus he was just released and his side hurt when he ran.

He reached the dungeons, pushed open the door, and it was immediately like the reporters all over again, except no one tried to jump him. But the room did become deadly silent and everyone turned to stare at him, unsure of how to react. The students were in partners, and there was a perfectly even number, four pairs of Gryffindors, and one pair of Slytherins, which was made up by Pansy and another girl Felicia, who had helped hide the younger Slytherins in the common room during the last battle.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you sure you are feeling up to joining us today?" asked Sev, concern in his cool voice.

"Yes, sir," said Draco.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Very well then."

Draco immediately went to the Slytherin pair in hopes to join them, but Snape stopped him.

"You'll be joining Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley today, Draco."

Draco stared at the Potion's Professor, as did everyone else. Draco knew it was his way of reprimanding Draco for being up when his godfather thought he should be resting, but he also figured that Sev wanted him to help bridge the gap that still remained between the houses.

"Yes, sir," he said, and walked to the table holding two-thirds of the Golden Trio. Granger pulled her bag off of the empty seat and he slid into it, the silence in the room becoming stifling.

"Miss Granger, please catch Mr. Malfoy up to speed and everyone go back to work."

Slowly the room became filled with student's voices reading out instructions and assigning chores. Draco turned to the girl beside him.

"So what are we doing?"

"We're making the Wolfsbane, at least, the final stages of it," said Granger.

Draco nodded, realizing that was one of the potions Sev had been working on last class. "Do you need me to do anything?" he asked.

Granger looked surprised, but she quickly covered it. "Yes, could you chop the blood rose roots, we need them as small as you can make them."

Draco nodded and took the proffered roots and knife. Having a Potion's Master for a godfather was useful in that he got hands on experience in the most advanced of potions and also tips along the way. These particular roots could be a pain to slice, unless you knew where to cut. He first sliced them the long way down into thin strands, no thicker than a unicorn hair. Then, separating the strands into small bundles, he looped the bundles in a tight circle and cut once horizontally, then vertically, then at the diagonals. With the knife, he scraped the now tiny pieces to the side and began looping the next bundle.

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

Draco looked up to see Granger watching his progress with fascination. "Sev taught me," he said shrugging.

"Who?"

"Snape," Draco clarified. "I help him sometimes on projects."

"You do?" Granger asked, impressed.

"Nothing big," said Draco, shrugging again.

Snape chose that moment to stop by. "Everything is going well, I trust?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," the three responded simultaneously.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Good." He knelt beside Draco's chair so they were face to face. "You sure you're up to being around?"

"Pomfrey released me and my side is all healed up."

"That wasn't really what I was worried about," said Sev quietly. "Your parents-"

"I'm fine," said Draco. "I just don't want to think about it right now. I need to do things."

Sev gazed at him a moment then nodded. "Alright then," he said. "I'll leave you to your work." He patted Draco's hand in parting and moved to check on the progress of the other students.

Class went rather quickly as the potion needed a lot of attention during the final stage. Draco had no time to actually interact with the Weasel and Granger, which he enjoyed, and even less time to dwell on the fact that he was recently orphaned. He was disappointed when their cauldron was clean and all of the ingredients put away. He could see why Sev turned to his potions when he was stressed; it was so easy to lose oneself in the brewing process.

The class was dismissed and Draco grabbed his bag, but was stopped by Granger's voice.

"Hey, Draco?" she asked hesitantly.

Draco turned, surprised that she used his name, and saw her and Ron standing in front of him rather nervously. He raised an eyebrow, mimicking Severus. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say thank you, for saving my life," said Hermione. "I was- well, you- that is- just, thanks. It was…nice of you."

He nodded his head slightly. "Is that all?" he asked.

"And I wanted to say that I'm sorry, about your mum and dad, it's got to be really hard to lose them both so close to each other, and I'm really sorry that it's you that's going through all of this, because I thought it was brave of you to stand up to Voldemort and your father like that," said Granger, all in one breath. "And Ron has something to say too."

Draco raised both eyebrows and turned to the red-head.

"I'm sorry," said Ron, looking uncomfortable, but honest in his apology. "For what I said about your family. I didn't mean it, and I'm glad that you defied You-Know-well, Voldemort. And I'm sorry about your mum."

"Apology accepted," said Draco. "And my condolences about your father. From what I hear, Lucius hated him, so I'm sure that he was an excellent man."

"He was," said Ron, nodding. "He was."

The three lapsed into an uncomfortable silence then Granger spoke up.

"Well, Ron and I are headed up for lunch. We'll see you there, then."

"Yeah," said Ron. "Bye."

Draco let them pass by him then stared after them. That had been a civil conversation. He blinked in surprise, before heading out as well. He was rather hungry.

It was when he reached the door into the Great Hall that he realized he should have gone the long way around. As he was one of the last students to arrive, that meant he would have to walk past all three tables with people staring at him. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been a problem, but there had just been a battle in the room in which Draco had killed his father, and he didn't want to attract the attention. He walked in anyways to prove to himself he wasn't afraid.

The first five steps were torture. First the Gryffindor table noticed him and began pointing and whispering. He spared them a scathing glare, and then noticed that half of their house was gone, either still injured or worse, and he had a slight moment of pity. He was passing Hagrid at the Head Table when it happened. The large half-giant brought his hands together in a clap, and then again, and again, and then Dumbledore joined in, as well as Minerva and Severus. He past the Hufflepuff table, who was also clapping and then the Ravenclaw table who joined in, rising to their feet as the occupants of the Head Table stood.

He ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flush ever so slightly and sat down quickly at the Slytherin table, by far the smallest of the four, because not only had many died fighting for the side of light, but also because many had fallen for Voldemort. His remaining Slytherins cheered loudest of all, but even the Gryffindors were adding quite generously to the applause and they too were standing.

Draco was glad when the clapping died down and every one returned to their seats, although he was also touched by the gesture and a small part of him took pride in the fact that he, Draco Malfoy, reported Death Eater, school bad boy, spoiled prat and git, had received a standing ovation from the entire school.

That thought allowed him to eat the first half of his meal without being plagued by the memories of the final battle, but then his mind drifted and he realized he was sitting two meters away from where he had killed his father. He stopped eating, feeling nauseas and was about to leave when an owl flew in and dropped off a large sheaf of papers tied together with twine. He picked up the bundle and headed straight down to the Slytherin Common Room and as he was the only remaining seventh year boy, besides Blaise who was in the infirmary, he was guaranteed peace and quiet. He began to look over the papers.

The first pages were a detailed account of what responsibilities and privileges Malfoy Enterprises was entitled to receive. The next were lists of employees and the next were files on each business ME invested in, how much they invested in it, and what the company did. Draco sorted through the companies he wanted to keep and noticed that there were many companies across seas that ME had a large part of. In fact the majority of businesses were in the States.

He glanced at his clock and noted that he still had an hour and a half until his next class, so he began to write letters to the companies he was going to drop. He managed to get off five on the express owls before he looked at the clock again and realized that he was late. He grabbed his things and ran out the door. He had Transfiguration next and McGonagall hated tardiness.

-----------

That was incredibly long. Wow. Umm, okay, so its not really long, but that's when tried putting it up on the net, it wouldn't fit. So now its in 2 chpts. You know you love me, you know it! R & R!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would be touring the world signing autographs. Every day. For the rest of my life.

Yup, that's right, 20 pages, chapter 6 was, but it wouldn't all fit so now it's chpts 6 &7. So you've got 2 chpts for the price of 1!

--------------

He burst through the door four minutes after class had started and slid into the seat next to Pansy.

"As I was saying," said McGonagall, glaring at him, but only slightly, "the NEWT's will take place in eight days. For those who are still recovering, or thinks they are not up to taking them so soon, another test will be administered towards the end of summer. Now let's continue our transfiguration review. Please copy these notes down."

Draco pulled out his parchment, quill and ink, and dutifully copied down McGonagall's words that were displayed on the board. The room was silent except for the scratch of feather against paper and the sound was slowly lulling Draco to sleep. He shook his head roughly and noticed that many others in the advanced transfigurations class were having the same difficulty, so it was with genuine interest that the students observed the black express owl that had just flown through the open window.

The owl flew straight to Draco who relieved the owl of its burden. The animal immediately left the way it came and Draco stared at the letter, reading the name of the sender, Mr. Barlow Cripes, Paracelsus' Inc.

"Mr. Malfoy, I trust that this is of the utmost importance?" came McGonagall's sharp voice.

"Yes, Professor," said Draco.

Her eyes were disapproving, but she didn't say anything, so Draco quietly opened the letter, feeling the gaze of twelve curious students.

_Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_You have Paracelsus' Inc. deepest sympathy on the loss of your Father and Mother. It truly is a tragedy that none your age should bear and let me personally give you my condolences, but also my respect for continuing Malfoy Enterprises. _

_I am sure you are aware that for many years now Malfoy Enterprises has been a great supporter of Paracelsus' Inc.; indeed, your financial backing has been a great benefit to my company, and I am positive that Paracelsus' has been a large profit for ME as well. Imagine my surprise than when I hear that you have decided to withdraw your support. It is truly unfathomable, but in moments of our deepest grief we often make decisions that are hasty and swayed by our emotions. To put it plainly, Paracelsus' Inc. is an excellent source of revenue for Malfoy Enterprises and only a fool would give my company up. _

_Lucius Malfoy always held Paracelsus' in the deepest regard for our work and was always willing to fund our projects. I'm sure he would hope his son would do the same. I understand that this is a trying time for one so young and I am willing to overlook your recent owl should you so desire._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Barlow E. Cripes_

Draco stared at the letter, a cold smirk on his lips. 'Only a fool', was it? He pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and began to compose his reply. There was a squawk and another letter was dropped into his lap. He looked up in time to see the back of an express owl disappear. McGonagall glared at him. He opened the letter bearing the title R.T. Mordrad, Mordrad & Sons.

_Lucius,_

_What the hell is this? Is this some sort of joke? Who in damnation is Draco?_

Well someone's behind the times, thought Draco, snorting at the letter.

"Mr. Malfoy, what exactly is this? Some sort of emergency?" asked McGonagall impatiently.

"Some sort of emergency," Draco agreed.

She frowned disapprovingly at him but before she could speak again his cell phone went off. The students and teacher jerked, looking around for the source of the electronicized melody, then staring at Draco as he swore, pulled out his phone, and flipped it open. He glanced at the caller ID.

"I have to take this," he said, getting up and walking out of the room, McGonagall's demands falling on deaf ears. Once the door was shut he hit the answer button.

"Draco Malfoy," he said.

"Draco, what the hell did you do? I'm getting an owl a minute form five very pissed off companies wanting to know exactly who is this crazy kid running the company and if he's out of his mind pulling out of their companies like that!"

"Hello to you to Bernard. How's Mrs. Shey doing?"

"Draco, this is not a social call."

"It had better not be," said Draco, tugging at his hair and turning around. "I just walked out of my Transfiguration class."

"This isn't a joke, Draco. Do you know how powerful these wizards are that you just slighted? No, more than slighted, even more than insulted. You basically spat in their faces and now they are out for your blood. And I have to deal with it! Seriously, you – Damn! That's Cripes on the other line. Again."

"Let me talk to him."

"What?"

"You heard me, let me talk to him. I made the mess, I'll clean it up."

"Draco, you're just a kid, you're in school, these are dangerous men, you don't know what you are dealing with."

"Mr. Shey," said Draco in his voice that was more deadly than Lucius' because it was vastly colder and infinitely less readable, "I have just given you a direct command. Need I remind you who is running this company? And need I remind you that the late Lucius Malfoy was more dangerous than any of these men put together, and that I was the one responsible for his death? I will only ask you one more time, put Mr. Cripes on the line. Now."

"Yes, sir," said Shey quietly. There was a click, followed by silence, then Shey got on the line again. "Here's Mr. Cripes." Another click and an oily voice came from the speaker.

"Hello, do I have the honor of addressing Draco Malfoy?"

Draco grimaced, but made his voice light and unconcerned. "Yes, this is Malfoy."

"Ah, Draco, dear boy. You have my deepest sympathies in-"

"Yes," said Draco interrupting. "I received your owl just now."

"Oh good. So tell me, should I indeed look over your last owl?"

"Why would I want you to that?" asked Draco, as if honestly confused.

"Well, because you obviously did not truly mean it."

"Impossible," said Draco flippantly. "If I did not mean what I wrote and then sent, then I would have made a mistake. And I do not make mistakes, now do I, Mr. Cripes?" His tone turned threatening towards the end.

There was a slight pause, then "You're making one now, Draco. Malfoy Enterprises has long supported-"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Draco, completely bored. "Long time supporters, however, I believe that I sent you a list of reasons of why I was withdrawing ME's financial investments, and unless you were incapable of reading, it should be apparent just why I am pulling out. Now tell me, Mr. Cripes, can you read?"

"Yes," said Cripes acidly.

"Good, so then I shouldn't hear about you harassing my lawyer, now should I?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cripes. I didn't hear you. What did you say?"

"No," came a stiff voice.

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I have a class I have to get back to."

"I swear, boy, you will regret this. No one goes up against Paracelsus' Inc. and wins."

"Actually, that's Mr. Malfoy."

"What?"

"As I am the head of Malfoy Enterprises and as I am of age, you will address me as Mr. Malfoy. So instead, your rather poor attempt at a threat should be 'I swear, Mr. Malfoy, you will regret this. No one goes up against Paracelsus' Inc. and wins'. And that brings us to another revising needed in your statement. You see, Mr. Cripes, I am not a person you should trifle. I do not take lightly to threats, nor do I like your attitude towards myself and my company. As of now, I am watching you and your little 'corporation' and if you dare raise one finger against myself or what is mine, you will regret the day you did not heed my warning. Remember, I am a Malfoy. As of now I am the most powerful Dark Wizard and should you test my strength, you will be broken. Can you comprehend this, Mr. Cripes?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco smirked. There was fear just barely detectable in the oily voice now. "Good. Now I have work to do." He pressed the hang up button and returned the phone to his ear. "Bernard? You still there?" he asked, surprised that his voice was shaking slightly.

"I'm here, Draco. I listened in. That was, that was-"

"I sounded like Lucius," said Draco realizing why he felt so sick. "I sounded exactly like him, but I don't want to be like him."

"No, you did the right thing Draco. If you want to run this company, you have to take charge of it and not back down. What you did was establish that you are not a push over, you showed him that you are in control of it. And he will spread the word that you are not to be messed with, that you are not afraid to use your power. You did the well."

"Maybe I made a mistake," said Draco. "Maybe I'm not ready to take over Malfoy Enterprises."

"I had my doubts, but when I heard you take on Cripes just now, I knew you were ready for this. You will do well, and you're not one to give up."

Draco felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards involuntarily. "Thanks, Bernard."

"Anytime, Drake. Now you'd probably better get back to class."

Draco chuckled but his laughter still held the cynical, mirthless quality he had gained when he was a child and that cold edge had never completely left.

"Yeah, McGonagall looked like she was going to murder me. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Draco."

"See you." Draco hung up the phone and turned, but pulled up short. A cat sat in front of the door, staring at him with large unblinking eyes, its tail tapping the floor, the way one would tap a foot impatiently.

He gave a patented innocent smile as the cat slowly transformed into a severe looking McGonagall.

"While I will not murder you Mr. Malfoy, I will accompany you to see the Headmaster at the end of class to discuss your choice of extra-curricular activities. Now come inside and finish up."

He followed her inside and ignoring the curious stares of his classmates and went straight to work to make up for lost time.

He waited for McGonagall to straighten up the room at the end of class and then led the way to Dumbledore's office. He let her say the password as he didn't know it and made a face when she said "Skiving Snackboxes" although his grimace was more for show than any dislike for the Weasley twins. They rode a revolving stair case up and she knocked on the door.

"Come in, Minerva," called Dumbledore.

She opened the door and he followed her in, raising his eyebrows at Harry who was occupying a rather ugly, chintz armchair in front of the Headmaster's desk. Harry shrugged, looking rather unsure as to why he was there.

"Ah, Draco, I was hoping Minerva would bring you by. Please have a seat."

Draco sat in the chair next to Harry, who raised his eyebrows back at him. Draco shrugged as well.

"Albus, could I talk to you for a moment, outside?" asked McGonagall.

"Of course," said Dumbledore, smiling brightly, his blue eyes twinkling. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I'll be back in a short while. In the meantime, help yourself to the lemon drops on my desk, if you so desire."

Dumbledore and McGonagall left, closing the door after them. There was an awkward silence.

"So, out of the infirmary?" Draco asked, even though the answer was apparent. The silence was disconcerting.

"Yeah, just now. And then Dumbledore wanted to say something, don't know what though."

"Oh," said Draco.

"You doing okay?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, I'm good," said Draco.

"That's good," said Harry nodding. They trailed off into uncomfortable silence once again. Suddenly McGonagall raised her voice outside the door.

"Albus, he was bragging that he was the most powerful Dark Wizard alive at the moment!" Dumbledore shushed her and their voices became indistinguishable once more.

Harry looked at Draco oddly.

"This guy, Cripes," said Draco defending himself, though he didn't know why because he didn't care what Potter or anyone on Dumbledore's side thought, or did he? He shook his head to clear his mind and continued. "He was threatening my company, so basically I was threatening him back."

"You have a company?" asked Harry.

"Family company. I inherited it today, and decided that I needed to pull my investments out of a few shady businesses. His was one of them, and I don't see the big deal anyway. I am the most powerful Dark Wizard as of now, but seeing as I BLOODY REFUSED THE DARK LORD I SHOULDN'T BE UNDER BLOODY SUSPISION ALL THE BLOODY TIME!" Draco shouted at the door. It wasn't really his fault he snapped, after all, he was just recently orphaned and had killed his own father and led half of his classmates and friends to their deaths by rebelling against the Dark Lord, whom he had been trained to follow and serve for his entire life. He slumped into the chair, which really was comfortable, and blinked back against a sudden sting in his eyes. He began tugging at his hair.

"Life sucks, doesn't it?" asked Harry, slouching as well.

"That's an understatement," said Draco, sullenly.

"I mean, this Voldemort dude kills my parents and then because I survived suddenly it means that I am this wonder child that everyone expects to save them all, when I'm freaking scared that I may not even pass my NEWT's. Then I do go and kill Voldemort, and suddenly I can't walk two steps without falling over because some link that was forged when he bloody killed my parents was severed. I'm forever going to be the weak and fragile Boy-Who-Lived who spends his days getting pushed around a sunny garden in a wheel chair with nurses fawning all over me, asking 'Oh, Harry, can I get you something' while they're whispering behind my back 'Such a brave, brave boy, he doesn't deserve this'. Well, THEY CAN GO TO HELL!"

Harry sighed and shifted further down.

"Did that help?" asked Draco.

"Yeah," said Harry, surprised. "It really did. I should do that more often."

"Why do you think I'm always yelling at younger students? It's even better when you're yelling at people."

"Huh, maybe we should try it on Dumbledore," said Harry.

Draco smirked. "I'd rather go for McGonagall. I don't think yelling is going to phase Dumbledore much, can't you just see him now?" He adopted a perfect mock up of the Headmaster with his knowing smile and twinkling eyes. "My, what big voices you have. Perhaps you ought to have a lemon drop to suck on so your throat can recover."

Harry grinned. "That is exactly what he'd say! I can almost picture him saying the exact thing." He looked at the dish of lemon drops on the Professor's desk and then got up and took one.

"What are you doing?" asked Draco.

"He said we could have one," said Harry, "and it just occurred to me that I have never taken one."

"So?" asked Draco.

"Well, maybe this is the reason he's so smart."

"Because he eats candy? You're saying to be as smart as Dumbledore we need to eat the lemon drops?"

"Exactly," said Harry seriously. The two exchanged looks then burst into laughter, Draco with his cynical edge to his. "Take one," Harry encouraged. "Haven't you always wondered what would happen if Dumbledore talked to himself?"

Draco hadn't, but now that he did, it was an interesting thought. So he got one as well and they sat back down, examining the sweets and then popping them in their mouths.

"So, feeling Dumbledorish?" asked Draco.

Harry snorted and nearly choked on the candy. "Who knew that candy could be so dangerous?" he asked, once his coughing stopped.

"Why else do you think they give them to children?" queried Draco, mimicking Dumbledore again.

"Ah, indeed a good question, Albus 1," said Harry, also getting into a Dumbledore façade.

"Why thank you Albus 2," said Draco.

"Perhaps then we should ban all candy at Hogwarts."

"Then we would go out of business."

"How so, Albus 1?"

"Well, obviously parents are sending children to Hogwarts, where they can buy their own candy, in hopes that the child will choke on their candy but then the parents can not be blamed for the death of their child, because it was the child's candy."

Harry looked at him, and then the two burst into laughter again. The door opened on their hysterics and the two tried to stifle their snickers but failed.

"Well, it's good to see you two getting along," said Dumbledore, which successfully quelled their amusement and left them looking at each other rather strangely. "Back to business, shall we?" asked Dumbledore chuckling at their expressions. "The reason I wanted to talk to you was because we are holding funeral services here for teachers, students, Order members, Aurors, and Death Eaters alike. The Death Eaters will have a service Friday and everyone else on Saturday. We will be having families and friends of the deceased staying with us, they will be camping on the front lawn. The reason I am telling you this is because I want you both to speak a piece at both ceremonies."

"Both?" asked Draco.

"Yes, you will be speaking a dedication for your army on Saturday, and as you had many friends and family siding for Voldemort, I though that you might like to say something. If you didn't want to-"

"No, it's fine," said Draco.

"Ummm, what am I going to say at the Death Eater ceremony?" asked Harry.

"Thank Merlin it's over and I'm glad the bastard is dead?" asked Draco. Both Dumbledore and Harry gave him a look. "Fine, how about how good triumphed over evil?"

"That would work," said Dumbledore.

"Oh," said Harry. He frowned. "Isn't that rather cliché?"

"Completely," said Draco. "It suits you."

"Thanks Malfoy," said Harry.

"Anytime Potter."

"Alright, Harry, you can head down to class now."

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry, getting to his feet. Draco watched him, noticing that he took four steps before he had to lean on the door for support.

"Do you need help getting to your room, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"No," said Harry. "I'm fine." He left the office and shut the door behind him.

"So, Mr. Malfoy, Minerva tells me that you have entered a new chapter in your life by starting a company."

Draco looked around at the mention of his Transfiguration's teacher wondering where she went.

"Minerva had papers to grade so she went back to her class," said Dumbledore. "Now, how about this company of yours?"

"I didn't start it, I took it over since Lucius, well, since they are gone now. I couldn't just sell it, so I decided to run it," said Draco.

"Ah, a very large undertaking Mr. Malfoy, however I can not have you interrupting class with your phone calls and owls."

Draco nodded. "I don't have to go to class-" he began, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Yes, you do, otherwise this is not a school, but we can compromise."

"How so sir?"

"How would you like your very first office?"

Draco stared at him. "Sir?"

"There is an old office that is not in use on the first floor in the hallway by the stairs. It is a hidden office, to get in you must say the password to the suit of armor. The password is evalesco. That word means to grow strong, to prevail, very fitting don't you think? Anyway, so you may use the office as long as all of your owls are kept there as well as your cell phone. Agreed?"

"Yes, sir," said Draco. "Thank you sir. Is that all?"

"No. I need to speak with you and Miss Granger. As you are the Head Boy and Girl you will have additional duties to perform with all of the services and memorials. And speaking of the Head Girl, here she is. Come in, Miss Granger," Dumbledore called.

Hermione entered the room and took the seat next to Draco. "You wanted to see me sir?"

"Yes. As this is the location of the final battle, we are having services for the dead and so many witches and wizards will be staying on our front lawn. This is sure to be a bit chaotic, so I ask that not only do you patrol the halls at night, but also the lawn to make sure that all students are in their rooms, unless of course they are staying with family. I also ask that you help us direct arriving wizards and witches to the plots they have been designated. I realize that this is quite a lot to ask of you since you are also studying for NEWT's, but your help is most appreciated."

"I'm honored to help sir," said Hermione.

"Good, now than any questions?"

"Actually, yes," said Hermione. "My parents are coming up and their not magical. I was wondering if we were having a designated area where parents who are non-wizards could stay where they wouldn't feel quite so overwhelmed."

"Ah, an excellent question," said Dumbledore thoughtfully.

"You could put them in the empty classroom on the first floor," said Draco. "Of course, it's not the most friendly of atmospheres but we could have Pansy fix it up. She's going into interior design and she knows how to stretch rooms out to make them bigger."

"And an excellent suggestion," said Dumbledore. "What do you think, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "It sounds good."

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore. "You two are dismissed for supper. I'll see you there."

"Bye, Professor," said Hermione.

Draco inclined his head and the two went down the stairs and to the dining hall. Draco went straight to the Slytherin table and told Pansy what was going on. She liked the idea of trying out her skills though she was a little unsure of what to put in the rooms for decorations for the Muggles. Draco told her to talk to Hermione on that.

Dinner was just about started when Harry came in rather slowly, accompanied by Ron who was ready to catch him if he fell. Immediately the students jumped to their feet and applauded wildly, the Slytherins included. Draco smirked as Harry went bright red and tried to wave them to stop. By the time he reached his seat, even the tips of his ears were scarlet. Draco felt a smile tug on his lips as he cheered for the savior of the wizarding world with the rest of the students, and for one split moment, they were completely united.

--------------------

So, I really wasn't planning on writing this much back story, it was supposed to give an account of the final battle and then skip straight to six years later when England goes through a depression, but these things just kept coming to me. But I think after this, there's only going to be one more 7th year chapter, and then it will go to what it says in the summary and Ginny will finally be appearing more.

Please, please, please Read and Review. I want to know what you think, so I know how to write better.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would be at a ski resort in the Alps. Every day. For the rest of my life.

So, I'm a little disappointed. See, one of my reviewers says that she (I think it's a she), isn't going to be reading anymore chapters because she (once again I think it's a she) doesn't like romance, which I said was going to be coming on in later chapters. Well, it's going to be much later on, I don't do the 'all of a sudden it turns out so-and-so has always been desperately in love with such-and-such' and it's not because I have anything against it, but because I can't write it and make it plausible. But oh well, you can't make everyone happy. So, brea, I hope you'll keep reading for a while longer at least, but if you don't, thanks for your reviews.

To Alexandria J.Malfoy: I'm glad you found the Albus 1 &2 thing funny

and DCoD, thank you so much for your reviews, it really keeps me encouraged and writing fast, and well, just thanks. It means a lot.

froggifrog: I'm glad you think it's well written I do try to make it flow

AngeliqueCollins: you're on to something with your Ginny comment

Zippy Zany: I have it pretty well mapped out in my head and I don't plan on leaving it

Read and enjoy, and then review!

---------------------

Draco spent the evening after dinner camped out in his new office. It was a tiny room with a desk, bookshelf, and a comfortable chair that swiveled around. There was also a small window. He quickly put his files and papers away in drawers and on the shelves and then took a moment to savor the feel of his own space. A black owl interrupted his minute of reflection, tapping on the window and he sighed, but let the owl in. He took the letter and read the address, Manoc Mentior, Law and Consulting Offices. He skimmed the letter and groaned; another person sending threats for dropping their company. He wrote a reply that was just as, if not more, cutting and snobbish. When he finished, he sent it off, and glanced at his watch. Only seven-thirty, so why did he feel so tired?

He rubbed his eyes and pulled out the long list of companies and started picking through them again. Three hours later and he had chosen six more companies to drop and had composed eight more letters, this time writing clearly on why he was pulling out and giving them office hours when they could call or write with any questions or comments. He turned back to the pile to make sure he hadn't missed anything. His eyelids were slowly drifting closed and he kept jerking awake, shaking his head in hopes to stop from falling asleep. It became harder and harder to focus and he became vaguely aware of the fact that he was slumped over his desk, but that thought was gone as soon as it came, replaced by nothing.

He gradually became aware of the fact that his shoulders were cramping painfully and that his head was resting on a hard, unyielding surface. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Sunbeams were streaming through the window, lighting up the office and overpowering glow of the candles that were burning down to nothing. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked at his watch trying to make sense of the numbers and hands. Seven-twenty. He groaned again. Draco pushed himself to his feet, put his slept on papers away and left the office, the door closing behind him and then disappearing into the stone wall. He stretched and rolled his shoulders back, his muscles sore and stiff; he needed a hot shower. He headed towards the Slytherin dorms yawning and running his hand through his hair, causing it to spike up crazily. He past the two girls without really noticing them, but stopped and turned when Granger called out

"Oh, Draco?"

"Yes?" he asked, noticing that she looked as if she had spent all night sleeping at a desk as well. The littlest Weasley looked equally rumpled. "Late night at the library?"

Ginny glared at the older girl. "Someone had the great idea to study late and wanted company. I told her to wake me up when she went to bed, but I guess she decided to have a campout in the Potions section."

Hermione colored slightly. "I've been speaking to Professor McGonagall-"

"Who woke us up," said Ginny, still glaring and twisting her neck side to side.

"-who said that people would start arriving tomorrow so this afternoon after classes we're going to help divide the side lawn into sections for campsites."

"How about we rent out the library?" asked Ginny, still getting the kinks out of her neck.

"Will you ever let that go?" asked Hermione exasperated.

"When I get a masseuse," said Ginny. Draco smirked. "Hey, hotshot, you're not looking that grand either," said Ginny, turning on him. "Is porcupine the new style or did you get struck by lightning?" Draco raised an eyebrow; Ginny groaned. "I'm gonna go take a shower," she announced and walked off.

"You'll have to excuse her," said Hermione. "She's not a morning person. So I'll meet you at the front entrance then. At four, is that okay? Or would you rather it at three, I mean, I may be a little late because I've got Muggle studies 'til three, but I could see if I could get out earlier. Or-"

"Four's fine Granger," said Draco, interrupting.

"Hermione," said the girl.

"What?"

Granger bit her lip, but pressed on. "I think we should call each other by our first names, I mean, now that we're on the same side and everything. Especially when the other people come, we should look like we're, well, not friends, but allies at least. I've talked to the others about it, and their willing to give it a go if you do."

Draco thought for a moment. It would be better, especially seeing as his family wasn't in the best of graces at the moment and he needed to side himself with the right people.

"Alright, Hermione," he said, testing out her name. It didn't hurt to say it, but it didn't feel natural.

She smiled. "I'll see you at four then, Draco." His name came from her lips much easier than hers came from his. She waved and continued down the hall.

Draco made his way to his room with his mind on overdrive.

The day went smoothly. He only had Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Herbology and it was all review for the NEWT's, which he had no problem with because he had a scarily sharp memory. He met Gra-Hermione at four and McGonagall showed them what portion of the vast grounds was designated for guest use and let them figure out how to divide it up and mark the boundaries.

"Any ideas?" asked Hermione.

"Straight rows," said Draco, "with the plots back to back with paths to get to Hogwarts for meals and facilities. Like at the Quidditch World Cup, except without the Death Eaters."

"Sounds good," said Hermione. "I figured we could paint the lines, like at parking lots. Oh, parking lots are where Muggles-"

"I know what parking lots are," said Draco.

"You do?" asked Hermione, surprised.

"Yes, Gra- Hermione," said Draco, and then, noticing the questions in her eyes, changed the subject. "I think paint is a good idea. Did McGonagall say how many people are coming?"

"Two hundred," said Hermione.

"Two hundred?" asked Draco, in surprise. "I thought there would be more."

"Oh, no. Two hundred families are coming to stay here. Even more will be arriving by portkey for the ceremonies themselves."

Draco surveyed the expanse of lawn. "It's doable then, it'll just be pretty tight quarters."

"I calculated it to be around five by five meters in each plot, but they'll be right next to each other. I hope they get along."

"I'll look over the list," said Draco. "We should probably keep the Death Eater families away from the rest."

"Is that such a good idea?" asked Hermione. "I mean then they might, you know, plan something."

"They won't," said Draco.

"You don't know for sure, plus it will look suspicious."

"I do know for sure. This place will be teaming with Aurors and Dumbledore is here; they won't try anything. And this way no one can provoke them, because then things might get messy."

Hermione looked somewhat unconvinced. "I don't know. I'd feel better if they were surrounded by, well, non-Death Eaters."

"Yes, you would," said Draco. "But they wouldn't. They have just lost a war that half of them believed in and the other half was forced into by family. Right now, they are getting treated like scum, like dirt, all because they fought for their beliefs and family. They have just lost family members, many of them more than one. Entire families have been destroyed, and I will not surround them with people who will spit at them right after they have lost so much. I refuse to have them subjected to that."

Hermione opened her mouth and Draco knew what was coming next. She would say, 'Well, that's how they treated me', but then she shut her mouth and thought.

"Okay," she said. "We'll put them in their own corner; I know I would hate to be surrounded by Death Eaters if this was the other way around."

Draco studied her in surprise, and then gave her a slight, fleeting smile. "Thank you," he said, sincerely.

"But, I want you to patrol their area thoroughly."

"Deal," said Draco. He watched as Hermione began to survey the lawn for the best area to start the plots and felt for the first time that he had made the right decision turning on the Dark Lord like that. He had expected the cycle to continue, only have the purebloods be the ones discriminated against, but if everyone was as forgiving as the girl in front of him, then maybe this war would finally be over.

---------------------------------------

He and Hermione finished marking the lawn in two hours, and then they poured over the map to figure out where would be the best place to put the families of the Death Eaters. They finally put them in the far corner, bordered by pureblood families that were not Death Eaters so that there was a buffer around them.

McGonagall found them in the library putting the finishing touches on the placing. She looked at the grouped Death Eaters with a frown, but said nothing on it.

"Our guests will be arriving tomorrow after lunch. As Head Boy and Girl you will help Hagrid and Filch direct the visitors to where they will be staying so you are excused from your classes. You will also give them these directions and guidelines." She handed them a piece of parchment. "You will be patrolling the campsite at ten o'clock each night, and then you will patrol the school. Any questions?"

They shook their heads and McGonagall nodded and left. The two turned to the parchment.

_Disrupting classes, disturbing students, or fighting with other visitors or teachers will result in your expulsion from the grounds._

_Students may visit family and friends that are on the grounds, but not visa versa._

_Visitors are prohibited from the Hogwarts building except in the dining hall and facilities unless permission is granted by Albus Dumbledore._

_Meals will be served from 8:00am- 9:00am, 1:00 pm- 2:00pm, and 7:30pm-9:00pm._

_A list of prohibited items will be posted for your convenience._

_Obedience to Hogwarts staff and Aurors is a must._

_A service for the Death Eaters will be held Friday at 10 am._

_A service for teachers, students, Aurors, and Order Members will be held Saturday at 2 pm._

_Questions? Contact the Hogwarts staff or Head Boy and Girl._

"Well, that about sums it up," said Draco, looking over the list.

Hermione yawned. "I'm going to go to dinner. I'll turn or map in to Dumbledore on my way down, alright?"

"Alright," said Draco.

She gathered her things up. "Are you going to come down?"

"In a while," said Draco. "I need to do a few things first."

"Your company?" Hermione asked.

He looked up at her in surprise. "How do you know?"

"It's been going around school," said Hermione. "Don't overwork yourself."

"Look who's talking," said Draco, with a hint of his old smirk.

Hermione smiled. "See you then."

"Yeah," said Draco. He sat at the table for awhile after she left, letting his mind wander around nothing, but then he got up. He would just take a quick stop at his office before going to supper. How much work could be there to do? He had a pretty good handle on the whole business thing.

He pulled up short when he entered his office. Letters were piled onto his desk; some had fallen to the floor. Owls were still coming in.

"What the hell?"

He strode into the room and shooed away the owls, digging through the mess to find the most recent letter to figure out what had gone wrong.

Three hours later, he discovered most of the mail was fan or hate letters. But the ones that were work related were serious. Manoc Mentior and Cripes had started a strike, aligning themselves with other companies who threatened to pull out unless he reinstated the eight companies he had pulled put of. He wondered what Mentior and Cripes had offered the other companies to get them to oppose him. He sighed and began composing a rather snotty reply to Cripes and Mentior. The threats would come later.

--------------------------------------------------------------

He woke up Wednesday morning in the office for the second day in a row, but this time he woke up on the bed he had transfigured from his desk chair. It was a little late in the morning, so he ran down to the Slytherin dorms to take a quick shower. He threw on clothes and just made it to breakfast. Blaise was there at the table, grinning ear to ear, his leg still in a very stiff brace and crutches next to him, but he was there.

"Hey, Draco," he said, as if he had never been in the infirmary at all and he was just meeting his friend for breakfast.

Draco walked over and slapped hands with him, pulling him into a quick embrace. He realized that he was also grinning like a fool but didn't really care at that moment.

"How you doing, Blaise?" he asked, sitting next to him and helping himself to a generous portion of eggs, ham, and toast. His stomach was reminding him in painful clenches that he had skipped dinner the other day.

"I'm doing good," said Blaise, honestly. "My leg hurts now and then, but I am so glad to be out of that damned hospital, though getting out was a hassle. All those reporters and what not."

"They're still here?"

"Will be until all of the services," said Blaise. "Then I came down here and everyone started applauding and standing up. Weird, huh?"

"They did it to me as well. And Potter. It's their way of saying thank you, and don't you even try to tell me that you didn't enjoy it."

"Well," said Blaise, grinning even wider, "I must say that I didn't entirely mind it."

"Didn't entirely mind it," snorted Draco.

Blaise chuckled and began his own breakfast. "This is so good," he said, around a mouthful. "Stuck eating hospital food for days on end is terrible."

"Hate to break it to you Blaise, but the 'hospital' food as you so call it is the exact same food that you're eating now, and it's all made in the same place."

"I know," said Blaise, "but it tastes better down here."

Draco just shook his head and then turned towards the Head Table when Dumbledore stood up.

"Could I have your attention, please?" he asked, his voice carrying through the hall and effectively silencing all conversation. "Thank you. Now as many of you know Hogwarts is hosting services for those fallen in battle and so many guests will be coming to stay with us. They will be camping out in the front left lawn and they will have access to the dining hall and to the facilities on the first floor. I ask that you all be on your best behavior so we can show these people how good our school really is. Many of these guests are your family, and if you wish to stay with them, go see your Head of Hose for a permission slip. You will be able to visit them during the day, but you will be expected to be in the school at 9:30 at night, unless otherwise permitted. As we will also be feeding our guests, a list has been posted on each of the dining hall doors to tell you when our guests will be eating, so you can either avoid them, or join them a your discretion.

"If any of our visitors is bothering you, please let one of the adults or the Head Boy or Girl know, and we will take care of the situation. Service hours are…"

Draco tuned the rest out; he knew it already.

"My mum's coming," said Blaise.

"I know, I saw her name on the lists," said Draco.

"Where are you sticking her?" asked Blaise.

"In between the Death Eaters and the others."

"Good idea," said Blaise. His mother was not a Death Eater, and his father died when he was ten. In fact none of Blaise's family were Death Eaters, they lived in Italy, far away from the war, and so Blaise had no pressure to join the Dark Lord, except form his friends at school and that was never much seeing as Draco refused him.

"Your mother is the best," said Draco.

"Yeah," said Blaise. "She sent me so many presents when I was in the hospital, that and then she told all of my aunts and uncles, and they all sent me stuff. Grandmother Julet even sent me an entire home cooked meal, which myself, Potter, and that Thomas kid were able to share before Pomfrey found it."

"When was this?" asked Draco.

"When you were unconscious."

"Oh. What's wrong with the Thomas kid?"

"His sister died, the first year."

Draco racked his mind and came up with a picture of a small girl with bows in her hair. "Oh, Merlin," he said.

"Yeah, there's a list you know. In the entrance hall, have you seen it?"

Draco shook his head, pushing his food away from him, not hungry any more.

"I'm going to head out; I have to start writing my speech. I'll see you in Potions."

He stood up and left; Blaise staring after him. He didn't want to look at the board of names, he honestly didn't. He was sick of death and dying, he was sick of fighting, and he was just plain sick of life at that moment, but his feet carried his unwilling body to the entrance hall and he gazed up at the board. There was a list of students, a list of Aurors, a list of teachers, a list of Order Members, a list of DA members and a list of Death Eaters, all in alphabetical order. His eyes skimmed over the list. Euan Abercrombie, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Cho Chang, Dennis Creevy, the list went on and he jumped to the next list. Professor Flitwick, Professor Halloway, Professor Trelawney. The next list: Amory Dawlish, Veronica Demogry, Elliot Fenwey, those were the Aurors. He skipped to the Order list, his eyes only taking in a few of the names. Elphias Doge, Hestia Jones, Lee Jordan, Alastor Moody, Sturgis Podmore, Arthur Weasley. He read the Death Eater list next, his stomach twisting as he read the names of those he had gone to school with and studied with and who were now no more. Another list caught his eye and he looked at it more carefully. It read Slytherin Army in emerald green ink and the names were written in dark silver. Hesitantly he reached out and touched the paper, his fingers skimming over the nineteen names reverently, those were _his_ people.

He took a step back, still gazing at the green and silver notice, but managed a small smile. Somehow, with all of the names listed and on display, it didn't seem like they were really gone. Their names would not be forgotten and their lives were not a waste. He gave the list a small salute and then began his trip down to Potions, meeting Blaise along the way and carrying his books for him as his friend struggled along with his crutches.

----------------------------------------------------------------

He was outside a few hours later, waiting for the next group to Portkey in. Hermione had already taken the first group, which had consisted of a group of Muggle parents, into the castle for their lodgings. Draco was glad she had taken that group, he had no idea what to say to them, but then a portkey activated and he found himself wishing that she was here. Mrs. Weasley had just arrived in a plain black dress, fading black shoes and an old-fashioned black hat with a short netted veil.

He swallowed hard, feeling dread wash over him, much as it used to when Lucius called him into his office for a talk. He would have gladly faced Lucius and his 'crucios' if it meant he would not have to face the recenlty widowed mother. He stepped forward, resisting the urge to tug on his hair.

"Can I help you with your bags, ma'am?" he asked, softly.

Mrs. Weasley looked up, brown eyes fastening grey ones. "Yes, please," she said, and relinquished the tattered old carpet bag into his hands.

Draco took the bag, treating it as if it was one of his mother's fine dragon silk ones. "If you'll follow me, I'll lead you to your designated area."

"Oh, I'm waiting for Bill and Charlie to arrive. They'll be in on the next portkey."

Sure enough, a few awkwardly silent moments later and the two oldest brothers appeared with somber faces and dark clothing. They too had bags and they looked around wondering where to go.

"This way," said Draco, getting their attention. "If you'll follow me." He turned without any further greeting because they were both staring at him with both hatred and pity and he couldn't take it anymore. He led them across the lawn and to a corner plot. "This is your site, facilities and meals are right through the main doors. Do you need any assistance setting up your tent?"

"No," said Charlie, "we've got it." His tone seemed forcibly polite.

"Very well, I shall leave you to unpack. The Headmaster wishes that you read over these guidelines." He handed them the copied parchment. "If you have any questions feel free to ask myself or any of the Hogwarts staff." He nodded at them cordially and was about to leave when he decided they deserved it. "For what it's worth," he said, causing them to give him their complete attention, "I'm sorry."

For a moment none of them said anything, and then Mrs. Weasley walked over and gave him a hug. "It's alright," she whispered in his ear. "And thank you."

She kissed his cheek and pulled away, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Now off to work with you," she dismissed.

He gave them a half smile, and walked away. More people would be arriving, and there was lots to do.

--------------------------

Okay, so I lied, so there's two more chapters of the back story, and to tell you the truth, I sorta like the back story as well. I'm sorry for those who are frustrated and want me to go straight to what it says in the summary, I really am, but it just didn't happen that way. Please, please, please review. So many other stories have more reviews than me, is it because I'm not begging enough? Pleeeeaaassseee, review. Even if you don't like it, just leave a quick line like "Hey, it's good" or "Hey, your story sucks". Hopefully it's the first, but oh well. Review, review, review!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I would hire someone to do all my homework for me. Every day. For the rest of my life.

Zippy zany-thanks for the encouragement, and you're right, I don't review a lot either, I think I'll start though

Alexandria J. Malfoy- well you didn't have to wait long, this has been one of my quickest updates

Wendy-some D/G stuff for you, but most of the D/G stuff is in chapters still to come, but it will be there, I promise

Avalon64- thank you so much! I feel loved

DCoD- thanks for your constant reviews, and keep a look out in chapter 10 soon to come

-----------

Most of the guests arrived Wednesday afternoon, although a few stragglers arrived the following day. Draco didn't like all of the people there, not only was it distracting when he already had so much to do, but because he was sick of the whispers and the points and the stares he received. He remembered times when he walked down Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley to be more precise, and people would bow low out of respect and fear, and although he had hated that, it was preferable to the looks he was getting now.

Normally he would be amused at the way people gawked at him, their expressions playing havoc with their faces, but these weren't normal times and he was pulling late nights in his office studying and running his business and writing those damnable speeches. He began categorizing people's reactions to him, and figuring out who is was safe to be with. None of the hard core Death Eater families that's for sure.

Deidre Lestrange, Bellatrix's niece, was thirty five years old and why she was not a Death Eater, Draco couldn't figure out. As soon as she saw him escorting a young widow and her child to an open area, she'd gone crazy and tried to hit him with a 'crucio'. Draco had her down on the ground, her wand in his possession, before the word had finished coming out of her mouth. Immediately Aurors were there and hauling her away to Azkaban. The other true Death Eaters glared at him, swore at him under their breaths, knocked into him purposefully, but did nothing serious.

Those Death Eater families who had never fully supported the Dark Lord were safe, though. They looked at him as if he was the Golden Boy himself, and those purebloods who had remained neutral were also okay to hang around with. They wouldn't try secretly poisoning him or what ever else the real Death Eaters were thinking about doing to him when they stared at him.

Those purebloods against the Dark Lord or those with Auror or Order relatives, he tried to avoid. They always seemed to follow him around, making sure he wasn't plotting the resurrection of Voldemort. They also watched him with accusing eyes full of hatred, disgust, and suspicion.

He generally avoided the Halfbloods and Muggleborns, because they just plain didn't like him, mostly his father's fault, but part of it was his. Because most of the people there hated him, he had his meals delivered to his office, where he was busy trying to stop the collapse of the Malfoy Enterprises, but he usually didn't bother.

He woke up Friday morning collapsed over his desk again, and hurriedly made his way down to the Slytherin Common Room to shower and dress. He then made his way down to breakfast, because as it was rather early, not many people would be there and because part of him figured that making a speech on an empty stomach wasn't the best of ideas.

He sat at the Slytherin table, none of his housemates were there yet, and the only other people in the hall was the entire Weasley family (minus Mr. Weasley, of course), Harry and Hermione. They all glanced at him when he entered and he pretended to have all of his attention on the food on the table. His stomach twisted as the odors from the eggs, bacon, and toast assaulted his nose and nausea rolled over him. He hadn't eaten lunch or supper the day before, save a dinner roll he had grabbed on the way to his office, and now the smell of food was too much for his body to handle at the moment.

Draco buried his head in his arms and let himself lean on the table. Maybe if he closed his eyes…

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, wake up." A gentle hand was shaking his shoulder ever-so-slightly and he moaned.

"What?" he managed, rubbing his tired eyes and staring around blearily. He focused on a pretty face framed by red hair with a slight smattering of freckles across the nose with bright hazel eyes.

"You fell asleep in the dining hall," said the littlest Weasley. "I figured I should wake you up before other people came in."

"Oh," said Draco, noticing more students starting to come in. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," said Draco again, starting to get up.

"You're not going to eat?" asked Ginny.

"Already did."

"Liar."

"Is this really any of your business?"

"No," said Ginny. She picked up a piece of toast, smeared it liberally with jam, and bit into it. "Mmm," she said around the mouthful. "Strawberry is the best."

His stomach growled, deciding it was hungry after all. She smirked, mimicking his usual expression. He glared but sat again and grabbed a piece of toast. Deliberately ignoring the offered jar of strawberry jelly, he reached past it and selected the apricot jar, spreading an even, thin line of the jam on the bread. He bit into it, his own smirk on his lips.

She swallowed and stuck her tongue out at him, then returned to her toast.

"Didn't you already eat?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," she said. "But Ron and Charlie ate all the strawberry jam, so I decided since you didn't have any breakfast company I would join you and steal your jam. This way I look like a very friendly person, and also very kind, but I'm actually just looking out for myself."

"That's very Slytherin of you," said Draco.

"Not really, I also came over to see how you were doing, which is a pretty brave thing to do because we don't really like each other and Charlie keeps telling me you'll hex me the first chance you get."

Draco looked up to where her family was finishing their meal. They all kept glancing their way, that is to say, every one except Mrs. Weasley.

"It's not bravery, it's stupidity," he said.

"To each his own, then," said Ginny shrugging.

"Your mum seems to be the only one not sending death glares at me," said Draco.

"She's a mother," said Ginny, thoughtfully munching on her piece of toast. "She has an astounding capacity to love rather than hate. Not that she loves you, rather she's more worried about _how_ you are doing than _what_ you're doing."

"I don't need her pity," said Draco.

"Not pity, sympathy."

"Same difference."

"Not really," said Ginny. She took the last bite of her toast and then licked a bit of jam off of her finger. "Well, I'm off. I have to get ready for the service, good luck on your speech." She gave him a bright smile and stood up. "By the way, you're hair is doing that porcupine thing again. See ya."

Draco watched her rejoin her family, his expressionless mask hiding the fact that he was surprised at a certain redheaded Gryffindor girl. He too finished his breakfast and headed out of the dining hall to his dorm room to fix his hair.

Ginny was right; it was rather mussed. He combed it down and let the usual strands fall in front of his eyes. He would never slick it back again the way he did when he was little and still in awe of his father.

He checked his watch. Eight am; he really did get up early. He returned to his office to review his speech before the service.

At nine-thirty he changed onto his black dress robes and checked his hair one more time. Then he grabbed his notes and headed back to the dorm to collect Blaise. The two made their way out the door and stared. The ceremony was obviously taking place on the front lawn because a raised dais was set up with several chairs along the back and a podium in the front. Directly below the podium was a long, low table covered in photographs of the late Death Eaters. There were lots of photographs. And facing the table and podium were nearly five hundred chairs.

"We're not going to need all of those chairs," said Blaise. "Not that many people are sad that they're gone. No offense you, of course."

"It's fine," said Draco. He walked beside his friend on crutches in case he fell, but Blaise seemed to have gotten the hang of the crutches, and he was even able to put some weight on his injured leg.

"Pomfrey says I can use a cane tomorrow," said Blaise, smiling. "I am so ready to ditch these things. Are you going to sit with me and mother?"

"If you want me to," said Draco as they reached the lawn. People were already seated and milling about. From what Draco could see they were all relatives of the Death Eaters.

"Of course we want you to," said Blaise, but then Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, approached the pair.

"Ah, there you are Draco. How are you dear boy?" he asked, beaming down at him.

"I am well, Minister. And yourself?"

"Oh, you know, busy, but I must say that this is a welcome sight," he gestured to the lawn. "The fall of You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters." He seemed to savor the words before he realized who he was speaking to. "Of course, no offense meant to you and your family."

"Of course not," said Draco, his words saturated in sarcasm that made his words smooth and chilly.

"Yes, well your father's body will be returned to you. Seems that Harry Potter insisted that you should be able to bury him where you will, and not have the body be buried at Azkaban with the rest of them. And as he is responsible for the death of You-Know-Who, I can hardly refuse him, now can I?"

Draco deemed it a rhetorical question and didn't bother answering.

"And speaking of Harry Potter, you will be sitting with him and a few select others on the dais, so if you will make your way to your seat, the sooner you get up there, the sooner people will come and sit and the sooner we can get this over with. No offense, of course."

Draco shot a glare at him that was deadlier than Lucius', but the Minister was already moving off.

"Well, since you are obviously to important to sit with the common folk, I beg my leave of you," said Blaise, giving him a mock bow.

"Sod off, Zabini," said Draco, giving him a slight smile and an even slighter shove. Blaise walked off to find his mother, his easy grin on his lips.

Draco looked up at the portable stage and stifled a grimace. He walked over to the steps on the sides and slowly ascended them like a man condemned. To his surprise, Sev was sitting in one of the chairs as well, a scowl on his face.

"You here too, Sev?" he asked, surprised.

"Only on the Headmaster's request," said Snape icily, shooting a glare at the man beside him that surpassed any of Draco's menacing stares. He would have to work on that. Dumbledore, in the chair next to his Potions Master, looked over and smiled.

"Now, now, Severus, the entire staff is seated up here. It wouldn't be proper for you to be absent."

"I highly doubt that anyone would miss me, and it would make for such nicer photos if I was not present."

"Posh," Dumbledore scoffed. "Do act your age, I already exempted you from making any speeches."

"He doesn't have to make a speech?" Draco asked. "Why do I have to?"

"Because you are not capable of making, how did you put it Albus, 'The very best cup of hot chocolate since Paracelsus himself'. And you did not mention the fact that making a speech would forever cease your ability to create the brew," said Sev.

Draco stared at him. "That's unfair, it's blackmail!"

"I'm a Slytherin," said Snape, shrugging.

"So am I," said Draco.

"Then you should have thought of it," said Sev.

Draco gave him a disgusted look and moved past the teachers to find a chair, hearing Dumbledore's laughter follow him.

Potter was sitting next to McGonagall and Draco sat in the empty chair on the other side of him.

"Fudge told me that my father's body would be sent to my house," said Draco, by way of greeting.

"Oh?" asked Harry in an innocent tone.

"Yeah, thanks Potter."

He could feel the black haired boy's eyes on him, but he looked resolutely out on the crowd.

"You're welcome," said Harry finally. And they lapsed into silence.

At precisely ten o'clock, Fudge took the podium and raised his arms for silence. The small crown gathered there took their seats and stared up at the Minister, who cast a magnifying charm on his throat so that his next words carried over the crowd.

"Thank you for your attendance at today's ceremony which will be held in place of a funeral for those in the allegiance of You-Know-Who," said the Minister grandly, as if the mere thought of having a ceremony for such wizards was a great and undeserving act of kindness. He pulled out a few notes, cleared his throat, and began to speak again. Draco recognized the beginning of a typical wizarding funeral.

"Death has always been a result of life, there can not be one without the other. Just as a candle brings light when it is lit, it also creates a shadow. Life, when it is lived, ends in the darkness of death. So let us then strive to make our life as bright as possible so that when our flame has been extinguished, the afterglow may still remain in memory of our deeds."

Draco stopped listening. The funeral speech was completely inappropriate and uncomfortable to listen to. And it would only get worse because soon Fudge would be asking them all to reflect on the afterglow of the deceased and there was no glow, only a big, black stain. He searched the crowd that was dutifully staring at the podium, and easily picked out the Weasleys with their bright red hair that stood out in stark contrast to the black robes. He found his eyes traveling to the Weaselette, and if sensing his stare, she looked up, met his gaze, and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the Minister. His lips twitched upwards in response and she smiled then returned her attention to Fudge. Draco did as well since Fudge had finished and was now saying something else.

"-now we will here from Harry Potter."

There was a small spattering of applause from those who were not relatives of the dead, and Harry let out a nervous breath and stood up. Fudge shook his hand and Harry stepped to the podium. He also charmed his throat and was about to speak when a loud ruckus caused everyone to turn to the back of the seats where a procession was now arriving. Wizards and witches in brightly colored robes made there way down to the front rows and filed in, all around those in dark garb, laughing and talking loudly although the expressions on their faces were ones of vengeance, loathing and triumphant sneers. Draco could pick up some of their shouted comments.

"Dead and they deserve much worse!"

"This should be a party, not a funeral!"

"Good riddance, the lot of them. I'm glad they're dead."

"You can say that again!"

"This is the happiest day of my life."

"This should be a celebration that they're dead!"

They finally quieted down, still smiling the malicious smiles and not paying attention at all to whatever Harry was saying. Draco missed the entire speech as well; it was impossible to concentrate because the newcomers were randomly bursting into cheering or setting off fireworks with their wands. The fireworks usually took the form of a torn, bleeding Death Eaters mask. The Aurors that were positioned around the group for protection against any escaped Death Eaters from coming back for revenge were doing nothing to help and just laughed along with the rest.

Harry finished whatever it was he was saying and then stepped away. Fudge took his place.

"And now we will hear from Draco Malfoy," he called above the noise. There were boos and an outbreak of the fireworks.

"Good luck," Harry whispered to him as he stood. Draco didn't respond. He performed his own 'sonorous' and took his place behind the podium. He gazed out at the crowd which was still setting of sparks and cheering one another on. He pulled out his wand and brought it down in a large, sharp motion. There was a BANG and a flash of light. The crowd screamed and ducked; the Aurors had there wands out in an instant, all aimed at him.

"Good morning," said Draco coolly. "At this time I would ask all of you who have not come to listen to the ceremony to please leave." He stared at them all, his eyes boring through each member in turn. "It is rather funny," he said, and laughed his cold, mirthless laugh. "I grew up with a Death Eater for a father, I saw him torturing Muggles and killing Muggles. I heard him come home, bragging about all the mudbloods he had hurt and murdered, and I decided that I didn't want any part of it. So what did I do? I betrayed my family, I became a traitor to the Dark Lord who promised me riches, fame, and power, and I threw in my lot with Dumbledore and Potter. I saved their bloody lives and I killed my own father. Why? Because I thought that you, that all of you, were better. You were on the light side, you were supposed to be good! I wasn't expecting that you come to this ceremony and cry for your enemies, but I wasn't expecting this." He gestured to the brightly colored clothes and the bleeding Death Eaters mask still in the air. "I expected this from the Death Eaters, this is why I left, because when you can laugh at death and destruction and pain, you become like them!" He pointed at the table of photos. "You become exactly like them. Oh, and look, you even have your own Dark Mark, how nice." He gazed at the bleeding mask, until its owner banished it away, cheeks flaming red.

"I didn't come here to mourn their deaths," he continued quietly. "But I didn't come here to revel in that fact either. I didn't come here to mourn the fact that they lived, but I sure as hell didn't come here to celebrate their lives. Rather, I came to mourn the choices they made that brought all of this pain, all of this destruction, and all of this death. I came to mourn the fact that these people were reduced to nothing more than monsters. I suppose I can mourn for all of you now as well." He paused then continued. "I never thought of myself as a naive child, I've seen things that would make the lot of you sick to your stomachs, but I thought that you would be different, I thought that you were good." He shook his head. "Maybe I was just fooling myself, maybe I've just exchanged one group of Death Eaters for another. Maybe," he finished in a whisper.

He stepped back and took the charm off of his voice, then walked off the dais, across the lawn and into the school. He didn't stop until he was in his office, and then he collapsed into his chair and worked until he had no more letters to send or people to call. He then pulled out his school books and studied straight through dinner, only coming out to patrol the campsite and the school halls which were strangely subdued and empty. Granger tried to talk to him, but every time she opened her mouth, he turned away. She got the point fairly quickly.

Once he was finished, he went straight back to his office and sent off a few more letters, and reviewed a few more chapters, until exhaustion claimed him.

-------------------------------------

One more chapter of back story, it kinda makes me sad, but the other stuff is going to be lots of fun as well. Keep reading and reviewing!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would have someone cook me fantastic meals with caramel cheesecake for desert. Every day. For the rest of my life. Yum!

Thanks to AngeliqueCollins, Wizzabee, Brielle, and Katie: your reviews mean a lot

Special thanks to constant reviewers, zippy zany, DCoD, avalon64, and Alexandria J. Malfoy, well, less talk and on with the chpts

He didn't know why he woke up just then. He was still in his office, his head resting on his right arm which was outstretched on his desk and his left arm on top of a wrinkled parchment. Last night he had been writing down all of the Transfiguration spells he could remember and his left hand still clutched his eagle feather quill. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking in the morning light. He vaguely wondered what time it was, he hadn't been sleeping in past seven for the last few days.

"It's eight am Mr. Malfoy," said a kindly voice.

Draco jerked off of the desk top, throwing himself backwards in his chair to get away from the stranger while pulling out his wand in such a quick movement that even the late Alastor Moody would have been impressed. However he forgot that his chair was wheeled and his sudden shove caused the chair and its occupant to smash into the bookcase behind him. Several volumes of folders and binders tumbled to the floor, some falling on top of him on their way down as Draco stared at his visitor, his wand aimed at the intruder's heart.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were sitting in chintz arm chairs in front of his desk. Draco was surprised the chairs fit in his tiny office. He dragged his gaze up to the two professors. McGonagall looked shocked; Dumbledore was smiling and his eyes twinkling.

Draco lowered his wand, still gasping for air after his fright. "My apologies, Headmaster, Professor," he said, nodding to each of them in turn and rolling his chair back to his desk. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, yes. It seems Minister Fudge wants the key players in the final battle to enter the service this afternoon in a special procession. We will be meeting in the front lawn at twelve-thirty this afternoon and your presence is expected. Will you be able to attend this meeting, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco blinked. They wanted him in a procession? "Yes, sir," he said, dubiously.

"Very good, 'til then Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore. He and McGonagall stood up and as soon as they did the chairs disappeared. Draco watched them exit, but Dumbledore turned in the doorway. "You know, Draco, I did not give you that office so that you could hide away from the world."

"I've been busy," said Draco. "And the world and I aren't on the best of terms at the moment."

"I think you should go to breakfast, and you will find that the world may have changed its mind. Besides, you look ill. Overworking yourself can be just as deadly as a dagger." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at him and left.

Draco tidied up his room, went to the dorm to shower and change, and then went to breakfast. Dumbledore hadn't ordered him, but he was the Headmaster. He would make sure that he was out of the dining hall by nine when all the parents and family members came in.

There were quite a few students in the hall, and they nodded or smiled in greeting as he walked by them. Draco returned the greetings, surprised. Dumbledore was right, but then he should have expected that. The old man was never wrong.

After breakfast, which he managed to escape as soon as he saw parents come in, he headed down to the Potions Lab. Sev was there, brewing Veritaserum for the ministry to use in the Death Eater trials. Sev moved over without a word and handed him a bunch of dragon fly wings to mince. Draco liked that about his godfather, he never expected Draco to talk to him unless he needed to and he always seemed to know when Draco just needed to do something. They worked in silence, each knowing the directions by heart and so not needing to ask questions or give directions. When they were finished Draco followed Severus into his office.

"I think I may leave, after NEWT's of course," said Draco, flopping onto the couch and staring at the fire.

"Oh?" asked Sev, taking his place in the armchair after putting on a kettle for tea.

"I can't do school and the business, I feel tired. Tired and stifled."

"School's almost over. Graduation is a week after NEWT's."

"I know," said Draco. He sighed and then pulled himself into a sitting position on his favorite end on the couch. "I'm just sick of this school. I can hardly eat here, I keep thinking about when I killed Lucius, and everyone who died here. I have to keep working or doing something to keep my mind off of it. I was thinking last night that I could just take the NEWT's and then leave. I have to arrange a funeral for Mum and Lucius, and that has to be back at the Estate, and it has to be soon, so I figured it would just be easier to leave. Then after the funeral, I have to go to America."

"The States?" asked Sev. "Why would you want to go there?"

"Business. I received a proposition from a company that specializes in incorporating Muggle technology and magic. It's just a start-up company and they're floundering rather badly, but if I can make this thing work, then it will be the biggest thing since collapsible cauldrons."

"I see," said Sev.

"I'll have to talk to Dumbledore about it, maybe you could put in a word for me."

"I could," said Snape. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I think so," said Draco.

"You think so? I want you to be sure, you're only seventeen. And you're proposing to go half way across the world."

"It's what I want," said Draco.

"Alright," said Severus. "I'll speak to Dumbledore for you. Now you had better go study, Heightmayor's Draught hasn't been on the NEWT's for four years now, and it could be on it this year."

"Thanks Sev."

"What else are godfathers for?"

Draco smirked and headed back up to his office and spent the next few hours studying his Potions. At twelve-twenty he left and headed out to the front lawn. He was one of the last to arrive and he saw the Golden Trio, a few select DA members which consisted of Longbottom, Lovegood, and the Weaselette, and a few Order members, Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and then Blaise and Pansy.

"Oh, very good, are we all here?" asked Fudge. "Good, good. Now then, let us get started, hmm? We're going to have the audience be seated and then the band is going to start up-"

"There's a band?" Draco whispered to Blaise who had come to stand by him to show off his handsome cherry wooded, gold headed cane.

"Yeah, England's Wizarding Symphony."

"-and then all of you here will walk down the center aisle. First of course is Harry. Harry, my dear boy, I'm going to have Aurors around you, just in case some irate Death Eaters show up."

"No," said Harry. "No Aurors."

"But, my dear boy, we have to protect you, you know."

"We can protect him just fine," said the Weasel, speaking up. "We've done it before, we can do it again."

Draco knew that Harry was not in any real danger, Dumbledore was there for Merlin's sake. He also realized that the sight of the Boy-Who-Lived surrounded by Aurors would make it that much more exciting and elections for Minister were coming up soon. Fudge was looking out for his own gain. He could tell that none of the Gryffindors were fooled either and that Harry did not want even more attention.

"Well, yes, you have done an excellent job of it," started Fudge.

"And we will continue doing an excellent job of it," said Ginny, in a no nonsense sort of voice that made Fudge rather flustered.

"It's just that the Aurors are trained to recognize dark wizards and curses," Fudge tried again.

"So there is no problem then," said Draco, speaking up. Everyone turned to look at him. "Blaise, Pansy, and I not only know how to recognize dark wizards, but we know most them quite personally. We have also grown up with the Dark Arts, and so with our added protection, Potter will be quite safe."

"Well, I suppose," said Fudge slowly, trying to think of a flaw in the plan. "It's just that these are _dark_ wizards-"

"As am I," said Draco, an edge in his voice. "Now then, because Harry is not going to be surrounded by Aurors, the Headmaster, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall will go down the aisle first, that way they can make sure no one is in the audience that shouldn't be. Then Harry will go down the aisle accompanied by myself, the DA, and Mr. Zabini and Ms. Parkinson. We will be followed by Mr. Lupin, Ms. Tonks, and Mr. Shacklebolt, is that acceptable?"

Fudge spluttered but Draco's voice was commanding and full of hidden threats. "I suppose so," said Fudge.

"Splendid," said Draco, sounding anything but enthused. "Shall we get started then?"

The band positioned underneath the podium struck up a moving march and Dumbledore made his way down the aisle after winking at the group. The practice wasn't completely unnecessary, Draco thought as he was heading back inside to change into his dress robes, they all new how to walk, and going down an aisle really wasn't as hard as conceptual potions.

"You know," said Blaise, once they had reached the dorm they shared. "I think the cane makes me look dashing."

Draco looked at his friend and then burst into laughter, Blaise joining him.

"Thanks, Blaise," he said once his laughter had ceased. "I needed that."

"No problem," said Blaise. "I'm going to grab a quick shower, I got up ten minutes before the meeting and didn't have time to take one then."

"Lazy bum," said Draco as Blaise rummaged around in his closet for his robes.

"Yup," agreed Blaise.

Draco turned to his own wardrobe and searched for his black and silver dress robes. He heard Blaise leave for the bathroom and finally found them. He stared at it for a long time, and then put it back, his eyes fastening on the emerald green robe that someone had mended and cleaned and put it away. He took the uniform out and laid it on his bed, his hand reaching up to tug on his hair.

The door opened and Pansy came in. Her blonde hair was down, falling in gentle waves and her emerald green robe fit her curves perfectly.

"I thought it might be nice if we wore them," she said. "So I fixed it."

Draco's hand lowered to brush the green silk; he remembered when he had ordered them. He needed something that his father would approve of so that Lucius would cover the expense. He could have bought them himself with his Gringott's account, but Lucius had the habit of occasionally checking his expenses and it would look suspicious if he had hid the uniforms. So he had told Lucius that they had wanted Junior Death Eater robes. Lucius had suggested dark grey, but Draco wanted something that would stand out to 'show those Gryffindors how powerful the Slytherins were' and was thinking maybe green. The real reason was because he planned to enter when the Death Eaters were winning, to take the heat off of Potter and the others so that Potter could kill the Dark Lord. Lucius had agreed that green would be nice, and then he had scheduled them in for a fitting at Monsieur Talkim's, a famous Italian designer. The result was that they were the best dressed army to ever engage in battle, and the robes fit them so perfectly they were easy to run, jump, and do pretty much everything in.

He changed into black trousers, a black button up shirt, and then pulled the robes on top. He didn't bother having Pansy leave while he dressed. They had grown up together and were practically brother and sister. Their parents hoped that they would marry, but their relationship was purely plutonic. He was pulling on his black dragonhide shoes when Blaise appeared, his curly black hair still wet form his shower. He was wearing his green robes as well.

"I thought it might be nice," he started to explain, when he caught sight of their uniforms.

"We thought so too," said Pansy, her cheeks gaining a light flush. Draco frowned. Why was she blushing? He turned to Blaise and saw that his friend was giving a nervous grin, his eyes looking anywhere but at Pansy. Realization hit him like a hippogriff. They liked each other, and although it was apparent it was a mutual interest, none of them had the courage to say anything. Draco turned from one to the other in surprise, why hadn't he seen it before? He had been busy, but to have something of this magnitude completely pass over him was disturbing. He then felt the tension in the room and sighed heavily. He could not put up with this.

"Pansy, Blaise has something to tell you."

"He does?" asked Pansy, looking rather nervous.

"I do?" asked Blaise, surprised and a little wary.

"Yeah," Draco prompted and then said in a stage whisper, "About how you like her."

"Oh, good," said Pansy relieved. "You told him, Blaise?"

"Told me what?" asked Draco.

"I didn't tell him anything," said Blaise.

"You said you were going to," said Pansy.

"I was. It just- just wasn't the right time."

"You said that two days ago."

"I was going to tell him today," said Blaise. "I swear I was."

"Tell me what?" asked Draco, utterly confused and hating it.

"That Pansy and I want to go out on a date, if it's okay with you," said Blaise, adding on the last part hastily.

"Why wouldn't it be okay with me?" asked Draco.

"Well, because we're best friends and you two were, well, you know, were supposed to get together and ally the Malfoy and Parkinson Houses and all that," said Blaise.

Pansy made a face. "No offense Draco, but I never like you that way."

"We've already had this discussion," said Draco. "We both agreed we had no feelings for each other and that we wouldn't get married."

"I know, I'm just making sure that your okay with it," said Pansy.

"Of course I am," said Draco. "But Blaise, best friend or not, Pansy is like my sister. If you hurt her, I have reason to seriously maim you."

"If I hurt her, you have permission to kill me," said Blaise sincerely.

Draco grinned. "Then you two have my blessings."

Pansy gave a delighted shriek and launched herself at Draco, giving him a crushing hug. "Thank you so much, Drake."

Draco returned the embrace, kissing the top of her head. "I think your man is getting jealous," he said.

Pansy laughed, released him and jumped Blaise, locking their lips together.

"Not in front of me!" Draco protested although he was smiling.

"Sorry," said Blaise, pulling back, though he was still holding Pansy.

Draco made a face at the two of them. "Well, shall we head out then?"

"We shall," said Pansy, grabbing Blaise's hand and dragging him along after Draco. They exited the dorm and met Ginny who was waiting for them outside.

"I'm to take you to our meeting place," she said, "so that everyone will be wondering where we are and then when the band starts, we can surprise them by walking down the aisle." Her voice was inflected with just the right amount of excitement so that her opinion of disgust and exasperation came through clearer than a crystal ball. "Fudge's idea, he's to lead us down the aisle. I think he might be afraid we'll get lost."

The Slytherins snorted along with the Gryffindor and followed her up to the charms classroom. The others were already gathered and looking completely unenthused as Fudge rubbed his hands together in the knowledge that he would soon be leading the heroes of the wizarding world out to the applause of a large amount of voters.

"Eight hundred people! And they are still coming strong." Fudge told Draco as the Minister passed him to peek out the door. "And you wore your fighting robes, good touch that."

Draco didn't even bother glaring; he wasn't worth it. He sat on one of the tables and wished that this was all over.

"The band has begun!" exclaimed Fudge. "Places, places! Dumbledore, stand at the door there, but don't go out yet. My dear Minerva, you will be on his right, Snape, on his left. Let him be a little in front of you. Now Harry, let them get a good couple of feet in front of you before you start out. Draco, you'll be on Harry's left, a little bit behind. And now Harry's army can line up behind him and you two in green, behind Draco. There we go. And you three, however you wish it. Nymphadora, must your hair be that shade of blue?"

Draco looked behind him to see the Auror with bright cyan colored hair in a sleek, fashionable bob.

"After you called me that, yes it does," said the woman with a glare.

"Oh, very well. Are we all ready? Good. Now then, follow me." Fudge took his place at the front of the line and strutted out. The three Professors followed him and after a moment Harry walked out as well, Draco on his left, a step behind him.

"I can not believe this," Harry muttered under his breath but Draco picked it up on it.

"Not one for theatrics, Po-Harry?" he asked.

"Sometimes I think it would just be easier if I died in the battle," Harry whispered with a grimace.

"It would be worse," said Draco. "They'd probably mummify your body and put it up in the Ministry for exhibition."

Harry chuckled wryly as they neared the front entrance. "And then they can charge admission."

"And then they would have a new source of revenue," said Draco thoughtfully.

"And they could lower taxes."

"And they can add on your death inscription, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Slayer of You-Know-Who, and Reducer of You-Know-What."

Harry laughed and then they were out the door. They stopped short as they took in the sea of humanity before them. There must have been at least a thousand witches and wizards present. All of the chairs had been filled and more had been added on so that the additional rows reached all the way to the bottom of the front steps. The raised dais seemed so far away, straight down a path lined by wizarding folk that were ignoring the chairs and standing up, applauding and cheering so that the magnified march from the orchestra was completely drowned out.

"Scared, Potter?" taunted Draco, taking in boy's pale face and wide eyes.

"Are you?"

"Nah, I get this all the time," said Draco, nonchalantly.

"Liar," said Harry.

"Yeah, but at least I'm not frozen on the top step while thousands of wizarding reporters are taking my open-mouthed picture to smear on every magazine and newspaper in the world."

Harry closed his mouth and started down the steps, Draco followed.

"So are Weasley and Granger going out?" he asked.

"I think they would like to," said Harry, doing as Draco intended, forgetting about the crowd and beginning down the aisle.

"But?" Draco prodded, not worried about being heard by those behind them because he was barely able to hear the boy next to him.

"I think they are afraid of what I will say," said Harry. "And I don't know what to do."

"I had the same problem," admitted Draco. "With Blaise and Pansy. Blaise was too afraid to tell me that they wanted to go out, and they felt like they had to get my permission."

"That's exactly what's happening," said Harry, "But it's hard because we've been best friends since first year."

"I know what you mean," said Draco. "Pansy and I were supposed to get married."

"You were?" asked Harry. "Since when?"

"It's been planned since we were infants," said Draco.

"What happened?"

"They shoved us together since we were one year old, and since neither of us had any brothers and sisters, we became like siblings."

"Oh. So what did you do?"

"Told Pansy that Blaise liked her in front of him, and then gave them my blessing."

"Huh," said Harry. "You think that would work?"

"Yeah," said Draco.

They finally reached the front of the dais and sat in the front row of the seats. The other Aurors, Order members, and DA students were there as well, as was Zacharais Randell, the only other surviving member of the Slytherin Army. His light brown hair fell over the white bandages still tied around his eyes and he too was wearing his green robes.

"Please, your attention! May I have your attention?" Fudge called over the cheering that didn't seem like it would be stopping anytime soon. The applause slowly died out and an anticipating silence fell over the crowd.

"This has been a trying time for our country," said Fudge. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was determined to destroy us, but we held firm and thanks to one boy-" He was interrupted by applause. "Yes, thank you, as I was saying, thanks to one-" More applause and a few cheers. "Yes, thank you," said Fudge rather testily. "We survived thanks to Harry Potter."

"HARRY!" screamed a voice in the crowd. There were a few chuckles and a smattering of clapping for the rowdy audience member.

"Yes," said Fudge. "But not only did Harry Potter come to our rescue, but thanks to a well run Ministry-," His attempts at self flattery died as the crowd got bored with his speech and started chanting.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry!" Fudge tried to speak over them, but it was no use.

Draco smirked as the Minister failed to gain the attention of the audience. He had turned this service, that was supposed to be a ceremony for the fallen, into a political campaign. He was getting what he deserved. Beside him, Potter sighed in exasperation, and then stood, ran up the steps to the dais, and Fudge begrudgingly relinquished the podium which caused another bout of cheers. Harry held up his hands and quieted the crowd.

"Hello," he said. Applause. "Can you all hear me back there?" More applause. "Alright, then. I would like to take this time to thank you all for coming out here and supporting all of those who havedied in the war and also Headmaster Dumbledore and Minister Fudge for hosting this ceremony." There was a polite amount of clapping, led by Harry. "Okay," he said, looking out over the crowd. Draco could tell he was nervous. "I'm not really good at this sort of thing," he apologized, and the audience immediately loved him for his honesty. "I have a speech here," he said, pulling out a folded piece of parchment, "If you wanted to hear it, that is," he said, seeming unsure of what to do now that the crowd was hanging on his every word.

"SPEECH!" cried the same audience member who had screamed 'Harry' and people cheered again.

"Alright, then," said Harry. He took a steadying breath and looked to his notes and then up at the crowd. "I didn't ask for this," he began, his voice completely sincere and raw with emotion. "I didn't even know that magic existed until I was eleven years old, and I didn't know that my parents had been murdered by a Dark Wizard. Up until then, I had been told that they had been killed in an automobile accident, and suddenly hearing that I was supposed to be some sort of hero was a shock. But I am thankful that I did not have to go through this alone. I made some wonderful friends here at Hogwarts and met an extremely talented group of Professors who all helped me accept who I was, and who I was destined to be. In that final battle, I had more allies than I could have ever hoped for. I had Aurors fighting with me, the DA fighting beside me, the Order fighting for me, and a group I never expected fighting next to me.

"I am not some wizard genius, that is not how I survived Voldemort and that is not how I defeated him in the end. You see, my mother loved me so much, she died for me, and her love was more powerful than the curse Voldemort tried to strike me with when I was a child. And when our two curses met, I realized that Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as he used to be known, did not possess the power to love. The wisest man on earth told me that to hate some one is easy, but to love someone unconditionally takes true strength. And as our curses fought each other, it was my thoughts on how I loved my friends and how I knew that they would still love me even if I didn't win that finally defeated Lord Voldemort.

"I believe that a bit of Voldemort still lingers. He is in the hurtful remarks we make to one another, he is in the taunts and teasings that ruin our school years, and he is in the prejudice that is still felt between Muggle-borns, Half-bloods, and Pure-bloods. Every time we succumb to the hate, he wins back a little more power and every time we look past these differences and get to know one another, it is like we are defeating him once again.

"Too many people died in this war, let us not sacrifice anymore lives on the late Lord Voldemort. Thank you."

Dead silence, then the same "HARRY!" and immediately thunderous applause broke out as witches and wizards surged to their feet, cheering and yelling. Draco stood as well, clapping along with the rest, completely shocked at the speech but extremely glad to know that he had joined the right side after all.

"Okay, if you could all quiet down now, I would like you to hear from a few other people. Without their support I would not have survived to destroy Voldemort, so they are rather important people, the first being Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head Auror."

The large black man formally took the stage. "Thank you very much. During this war the Ministry lost many employees and not all of them were Aurors. However, I know that they were willing to give their lives in the knowledge that their sacrifice was not in vain and that they would not be forgotten. And indeed, they will never be forgotten for they live on in our thoughts and memories. Thank you."

His speech was exactly like him, to the point without a waste of words. Draco clapped and Harry introduced the next person.

"Our next speaker is from the DA, and the speaker is Miss Ginevra Weasley."

Draco watched in surprise as the slight red-head skipped lightly up the stairs and stood on her tiptoes in front of the podium to see over it. "Hello to you all," she said, no nervousness apparent in her voice. "I was chosen to speak for the group because although we have fought Voldemort himself, everyone else was too afraid to make a speech." The audience laughed. "I would just like to say that the DA was not originally intended for battle. We began as a study group and while I will not go into many details on why this was necessary I will say that if Dolores Umbridge is out there, she should know that she should be expecting a lawsuit soon from the DA on counts of child abuse and attempted murder." There were gasps from the crowd and whispering. "But," continued Ginny, "that is not the point of my speech. The DA went from a practical study group to a full out army in a years time and that is a feat to be proud of. It has been said that children are the future, and that is true. We were not just kids fighting for our friend, we were fighting for our lives, for the future of the wizarding world. For the skeptics who say children can not fully understand the impact of war, I tell you this: we knew, that should Voldemort win, those of us who survived would be executed and that our families would be beaten and ravaged. Many of us had family members that we lost in various battles already, and we could fully understand what war meant. And that is why we fought, because if the future wouldn't fight, who would? I am proud to say that I fought and my sentiments are echoed by the other members of the DA, both the living and the dead. We helped secure our future and helped a friend, two of the highest callings we could ever hope to undertake."

She stepped back as the audience applauded, shook hands with Harry, and then turned back to the podium. "And contrary to the Daily Prophet, I am not dating Harry Potter."

Laughter, applause and a bunch of teenaged girls screaming, "Harry, we love you!"

"And now I will introduce the Headmaster of Hogwarts and my mentor, Professor Dumbledore," said the boy turning red.

Dumbledore took the stage resplendent on deep violet robes. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. As many of you are already aware of, thanks to our wonderful press which always seems to get in on the secrets, I headed an organization against Voldemort, or Tom as he was to me. This group was made of the strongest and most devoted wizards I have ever had the privilege to know. And although this group suffered the loss of many members, I know that they would all give up their lives again if it meant that this outcome could be reached. I had imagined all sorts of results, but I never expected that this war would have ended so peacefully. I am proud to have been able to offer some words of advice to Mr. Potter here and there and I am proud that he pretended to listen to an old codger such as myself. You exceeded our expectations, Harry."

And the old Headmaster pulled Harry into an embrace while the crowd cheered.

"And last, but not least," said Harry, once Dumbledore had left the stage, "the biggest prat and spoiled brat this school has ever known, the boy who saved all of our lives, Draco Malfoy."

Draco stood and gained the stage. Harry was at the podium and to shake his hand before he began. "I never liked you either, Harry," Draco whispered, but the podium had a voice magnifier on it, which was easier on the throat than the sonorous charm, and so his words carried across the crowd and the audience laughed.

"It's true," said Draco, addressing the crowd. "I was one of the few boys that hated Potter in school and so I made his life miserable with the help of a few Slytherin friends. I can quite honestly say that it was expected of me, because I was a rich little Pure-blood with Death Eater family members. I even met the Dark Lord in the summer before my fifth year, and he ordered me to do everything in my power to make Potter unhappy. I was actually quite surprised he didn't want me to kill Harry, and so went about my job enthusiastically. I suppose I had an epiphany after fifth year. I always knew that while torturing Muggles and Muggle-borns wasn't necessarily right, I didn't know that it was wrong until I glimpsed a Dark Revel. The carnage was astounding, and I saw innocent children no more than four years old being murdered. Then I knew that I wanted nothing of it.

"I started our own Defense meeting, mainly because if Potter had an army, then I was going to have one too, but also because I knew that if me friends and I planned on surviving the war, we would need to train. I am sorry to say that even at that moment I did not know who I was going to fight for. Rebelling against the Dark Lord would mean rebelling against my family and my father, and that was an extremely dangerous thing to do. However, when I began my seventh year, Lucius revealed to me that I would receive the Dark Mark the night I graduated, so I told my group that I wasn't supporting the Dark Lord and they agreed with me. We kept our allegiance a secret, because we knew surprise was our best offense, and when the time came, they followed me in without hesitation. To say I am proud of them is a severe understatement. They went against the most powerful Dark Wizard of our time, and they went against family, which is ten times as hard. They have forever redeemed the Slytherin House and will forever be remembered."

He stepped back as the applause thundered and Fudge waited for the cheers to die down and then took the podium. Draco started to leave but Fudge called him back. "Oh, not yet, Mr. Malfoy. If I could have all of those who were in the processional please come onto the stage, I have something to give you."

The members of Fudge's impromptu parade made their way up onto the dais looking about suspiciously.

"I have the pleasure," announced Fudge as his assistant brought for a large, thin velvet box, "to award these outstanding witches and wizards behind me, with the Order of Merlin, First Class Medal." There was applause and Fudge went to Harry's side. "For services to the country, I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, award you, Harry James Potter, with the Order of Merlin, First Class." He hung the medal around Harry's neck and moved to Draco who was next in line. "For services to the country, I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic award you, Draco Cyrus Malfoy, with the Order of Merlin, First Class."

Fudge placed the medal around his neck and moved to the next person in line. Draco looked down at it, stunned, then turned to see Harry grinning broadly at him. He returned the smile and then drew his attention back to Fudge.

"-award you, Severus Tobias Snape, with the Order of Merlin,…"

Draco stared at his office now completely empty except for the chair, desk and bookcase. It was Thursday afternoon and he had just finished his last NEWT. It was Transfigurations and his brain now felt incapable of thought. While he had been testing, Snape had sent his stuff ahead to the Malfoy Estate where he would be residing since Dumbledore was allowing him to go home and skip the last week of school. He had said he could still come to graduation, but Draco planned on being in the States at that time.

Draco looked around the room, figuring that a first office was like a first love, you always remembered it. He then sat in the chair behind the desk and did what he had wanted to do since the moment he had the office, he started spinning. He kicked off the floor and spun the chair around in circle after dizzying circle, leaning back and watching the ceiling revolve.

"So this is what businessmen do," said a voice.

Draco planted his feet and tried focusing on the figure in the doorway. He was able to make out the form once his world had straightened itself out again.

"Harry, what brings you down here?"

Harry shrugged. "Heard you were leaving, thought I'd figure out why."

"Business," said Draco.

"You sure you're not running?"

Draco didn't answer.

"Well, good-bye then I guess," said Harry. He bent and picked something up off of the floor underneath his desk. It was a small, old book. "_Cursed Weapons_," Harry read, just as Draco demanded, "Potter, give me that!"

Harry looked up, surprised, but then something clicked into place for him. He flipped through the pages, noticing the depicted swords and daggers.

"The stab wound you received," said Harry, "It was cursed?"

"I thought it was," said Draco, "but the curse was old and it wore off. I just- the fact, the fact that my own father would do something like that to me…" he trailed off.

"I'm sorry," said Harry.

"Me too," said Draco.

"Are you coming back for graduation?"

"No."

"But you're salutatorian," said Harry, surprised.

"I've got work to do," said Draco, shrugging.

"Oh," said Harry. He handed him the book. "Well, I'll see you around, alright?"

"Yeah, see you, Harry."

The boy savior left and the door shut behind him. Draco was left staring at nothing, trying to prepare himself for a whole new life.

There you go! The back story is done, and next chpt its six years later! It's going to be great! Sry bout the rather long update time, but college keeps me busy. DCoD, the spinning is all you.

Read and review!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would have a caramel latte before class in the morning. Every day. For the rest of my life.

Sorry it took me so long to update, but I have mad amounts of hmwk, and two girls I share a room with (I'm in a quad) aren't speaking to each other cuz they got in a fight, so its rather tense down here. But I skipped my first college class today, I had a migraine, but I couldn't sleep, so I wrote this! And I feel better now.

Thanks to my reviewers, I have the best reviewers in the world!

Zippy Zany: yes, it's finally here!

DCoD: college is alright, thanks for asking, and I love Draco and Harry getting along as well

Wizzabee: your review made me smile as well : )

AngeliqueCollins: thank you, the speeches were hard but fun to write

Alexandria J. Malfoy: I hope you weren't waiting too long, and here it is!

--------------

Almost Six Years Since the End of the War

Draco Malfoy stepped off of the international portkey platform and stepped foot in his home country for the first time in almost six years. The terminal he was in was situated in Diagon Alley and it boasted of platforms leading to over sixty different nations. He couldn't help but notice that the area for arrivals, which was where he was currently standing, was empty. Across the room, a few wizards were departing, but they were dressed in shabby clothes and they wore expressions of grim defeat.

"Are you goin' ta give me the key or not?" asked a testy, irritable voice.

Draco finally noticed the man in the conductor's hat beside him. "Huh? Oh, right, here." He dropped the golden key bearing the inscription _Diagon Alley, England_ into the bucket the man was holding out.

"Will you be needin' the Knight Bus?" the conductor asked around the cigarette in his dry, cracked lips. His craggy face was lined and his hair was lank and gray under the striped hat. When he spoke, Draco could smell whiskey on the man's breath.

"No, thank you," he said. "That will be all." And readjusting his grip on his bag, he left the terminal and stepped into the crowded streets. At least, they used to be crowded.

Draco stood just outside of the doors to the terminal and took in his surroundings. The shops that were usually bursting with people were silent. Some stores were completely locked up and bare with 'closed' signs hanging from doorknobs or inside of cracked windows mended with spellotape, fixed by the homeless inhabitants that now resided in them. The shops that were open were just as dim although their display windows contained a few dusty objects. A few huddled figures entered these stores only to be thrown out again as they had no money to buy anything and were merely looking for a brief respite from the wind. The same icy wind hit his bare face and hands, though his long black coat stopped the wind from doing anything more than kicking up the edges of the thick material and whipping them around his legs.

It was March and dirty snow covered the streets as winter showed no signs of stopping or easing up a bit on those unfortunate to have no place to call home. And those unfortunate were many. Draco frowned as he surveyed the town. Once it had been the capital of the English Wizarding Community, now it was silent and dank and in the grips of economic collapse.

Draco had read about the crisis, had read about it two years ago, and figured that things would sort themselves out, and had continued living in the States, California to be more precise, and had continued increasing his fortune. To be more precise once again, increasing his fortune ten times its original amount. He had been named in the Top Ten Richest Wizards List as number four when he had inherited the Malfoy Estate and business, now he was number one.

He had not wanted to come back; he had created himself a nice life in the sunny state. Many friends, five new businesses, a few nice houses right on the beach, yes, life had been good to him there and it showed. His skin, though still on the pale side, was no longer an unhealthy white, his face, which had tended towards pointed, was now filled out, and although it was still angular, it made women swoon over him. He had grown a few more inches and was now an even six feet, and his body was lank, but still filled out with muscle. His hair was still the same silver-blonde and although it was shorter, the same strands fell into his grey eyes.

He gazed at the scene before him, taking in the poverty and the homeless littering the streets, though his face gave away nothing. He had known it was bad, but this surpassed even his worse scenario. It would take a long time to bring the English Wizarding World to its feet, and Draco Malfoy intended to do just that. But first things first.

He walked to the nearest Apparation point and Apparated to the Malfoy Estate, a large mansion that not only rose seven floors into the air (more in some places), but also sprawled across a well manicured lawn. He appeared in the front entrance and immediately a house elf rushed to his side.

"Oh, Master is back, sir. Is Master wanting anything, sir? Master must be hungry after traveling such a long way."

He looked down at the elf in the towel wrapped toga style and handed her his coat and bag. "No, not right now Rolly. Is Mister Zabini here?"

"Of course Mr. Zabini's here," said a cheerful voice.

Draco looked up to see Blaise Zabini walking in from the study, a fine ebony cane aiding his approach, and a wide grin on his face.

"Blaise," said Draco, holding out his hand. Blaise grabbed it and then pulled him into an embrace.

"Where the hell have you been, Drake?" Blaise demanded, releasing his friend to look at him. "I haven't seen you since Lida was born and she's five now."

Draco blinked. "She is?" he asked.

"Well, in a month. She keeps reminding us." Blaise smiled at the thought of his daughter. "She looks exactly like her mother."

"That's probably a good thing, I'd hate to see a baby as ugly as you," said Draco, smirking.

"That's because you haven't seen my other kid yet," said Blaise proudly.

"Another kid?" Draco asked.

"I hope you don't mind, I brought the whole family," said Blaise, taking his stunned friend by the arm and dragging him into the sun-room on the first floor. He opened up the door and a little girl launched herself at her father, her blonde hair in curls and a cute pink dress on.

"There's my little Lida," said Blaise, dropping his cane on the floor and scooping up the child.

"I missed you Daddy," said the girl, turning dark blue eyes on her father.

"Missed me? But I've only been gone a few minutes. Here, you remember Uncle Draco I've been telling you about?" The girl nodded. "Well here he is," said Blaise, putting her down and pulling Draco forward.

Lida smiled up at him and stuck out her hand. "Hello, Uncle Draco," she said.

Draco bent and took her hand. "Hello, Lida. You look very pretty."

"Thank you," she said.

"Lida, how about you introduce Uncle Draco to your brother."

"Okay," said the little girl. "He's in here." She led the way into the comfortable living room with the glass ceiling and transparent outer wall.

Draco turned to Blaise in amazement. "She's so big."

"You've been gone a long time," said Blaise. They stepped into the room and Draco's eyes fastened onto a little boy two years old sitting on the light blue carpet. A book was in his lap and his fingers in his mouth. The son was a mix of his father and mother. Fair skin, but with thick dark hair that was not curly like his father's but with a slight wave like his mothers. Dark chocolate eyes looked up at his father and he grinned, taking his fingers out of his mouth and waving.

"Uncle Draco, this is my little brother," said Lida. "He's annoyin'."

"Lida," scolded Blaise good-naturedly.

"What's his name?" asked Draco, still staring at the little boy.

"Dragon," said Blaise quietly.

Draco's eyes turned to his friend in surprise. "Dragon?" he asked.

"Well, you are my best friend," said Blaise grinning again.

"Yeah, but it's a terrible name for a child," said Draco, watching the boy again. He turned back to Blaise. "I'm honored," he said sincerely.

"No problem, Drake," said Blaise.

"He doesn't really look like you though," said Draco.

"I was talking about my other kid."

Draco stared at him. "Three kids?" he asked incredulous.

"Yup. I've got a beautiful six month old girl named Amandine."

"Three kids, though?" asked Draco.

"You have been gone a long time," said a woman's voice from the doorway.

The two men looked up to see Pansy Zabini standing in the doorway. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and she was cradling a baby girl in her arms. One of the infant's hands was fastened onto a fistful of the light hair. Blaise was immediately at his wife's side and Draco was pleased to note that while his friend still had a limp, he seemed to be quite capable of moving without the cane. Husband and wife kissed lovingly and then Blaise took the baby from his wife and brought it over to show Draco.

Blaise was right; she looked exactly like him and it wasn't a bad thing. Amandine had inherited her father's tan Italian skin, the hazel eyes and the tangle of curly almost black hair.

"Hold her," said Blaise.

"Oh, no," said Draco. "I'll drop her or something." But then Pansy was dragging him to an off-white suede armchair and shoving him in it and then the little girl was placed into his open arms. Draco looked down at the girl who was staring up at him with wide eyes. The two stared at each other for a minute but then the baby's face started to crumple and the mouth began to open. "Uhh, guys, the baby's crying," he said helplessly as the girl began to shriek.

Blaise laughed but rescued his friend and Draco got up out of the chair before they decided to throw any more children at him. Pansy gave him a hug.

"It's been too long, Draco," she said.

"I know," said Draco feeling slightly guilty. After he had left he had only seen them twice, once for the wedding which was held in Blaise's hometown in Italy, and once when Lida had been born. He had visited and found them happily situated in a quaint Italian town with a beautiful daughter and a new life. He had felt like an intruder.

Pansy pulled back and looked him over. "Well, at least you aren't working yourself to death," she said in sisterly affection.

"No, but I plan too," he said, only half-joking. "I will have to borrow Blaise now and then, is that okay? I'll try not to take up too much of his time. I know it must be a pain to have him in another country and all."

"He won't be," said Pansy, smiling. "We're moving in with you."

"What?"

"You can't pull this country out of a depression all by yourself, Draco, and there is no way we're going to let you try," said Blaise, coming over, gently rocking his daughter. "We are your friends after all."

"Besides, this house is the only thing that I miss in not marrying you," said Pansy, smiling. Draco found himself smiling back.

"So what's the first step?" asked Blaise.

"I have to pay a visit to the French Minister of Magic," said Draco.

"What's in France?" asked Blaise.

"My business manager," said Draco with a grin.

--------------------------------

He stepped off of the international portkey platform and immediately noticed the difference. Here in France people were bustling around, greeting one another with hugs and kisses, or saying goodbye with promises to see each other again soon. He placed his key in the bucket and made his way out of the terminal.

The streets outside were full and colorful, a direct contrast to the country he had just left. The walk to the Ministry was pleasant, even the weather was better across the channel. He entered the white, granite building and walked up to the assistants sitting at the large information desk. A pretty secretary with pretty accent greeted him.

"Monsieur, parlez-vous francais or do you prefer English?"

"English, please," said Draco. "I am here to see Miss Ginevra Weasley."

"Ah, Ginny," said the secretary, who obviously knew her well. "Does she know you are here to see her?"

"No, it's a bit of a surprise," said Draco, giving her a winning smile and letting her assume what she wanted.

"I see," said the witch, her curiosity peeked. "Shall I call her down or would you like to go to her office?"

"I'd like to go to her office," said Draco. "If you can take me, that is."

"I can, the Minister is in a meeting so she should be free to meet you. This way, if you please." She led the way into a waiting elevator. "Top floor, Minister's office," she commanded and the doors hissed shut and they were off. The Minister's office was on the eleventh floor and as soon as they stepped off they were approached by two guards.

"Le Ministre est lors d'une reunion (1), Cecily," said the first. Draco turned to the witch for a translation.

"I know. He's not here to see the Minister; he's here to see Ginny."

"Ginny?" asked the guard, switching to English. "Why? She doesn't have a boyfriend."

"That's what she says," interjected Draco with a smile that practically screamed 'I have a secret'.

"Well, alright, but we're still going to have to search you."

Draco obligingly held out his hand and let the guards run a concealment revealing charm on him to search for any weapons.

"I'm going to have to hold onto your wand for you, sir."

Draco surrendered his wand and Cecily motioned him over to a door that read Minister of Magic, Henri Badeau; Secretary, Ginevra Weasley. She opened the door and poked her head in.

"Ginny, there's someone here to see you."

"Who?" asked a rather distracted voice.

Cecily switched to French; Draco frowned.

"Un homme beau et anglais. Pourquoi ne m'avez-vous pas dit que vous avez eu un petit ami? (2)"

"A boyfr-?" began Ginny but the witch cut her off.

"Francais, Ginny."

"Je n'ai pas un petit ami, (3)" Ginny amended.

"Then who is this?" asked Cecily, opening the door and pulling Draco inside.

"Malfoy?" asked Ginny, staring in surprise.

Draco smirked. "Hello, Ginevra." He took in her features in a split second; the six years had changed her from a girl into a young woman. Her face was just as pretty and the smatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks still just as cute. Her hair had grown and was pulled stylishly back into a low, loose bun and she had a slight figure but with womanly curves. He'd seen women with better figures, but Ginny was just on the short side and the look fit her.

Ginny scowled. "Don't call me that."

"Do you prefer Weaselette?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"What do you want?" asked Ginny. "I'm rather busy at the moment."

"Well aren't you little Miss Politeness? I hope you're not this rude to the Minister."

Ginny closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let it out slowly and then opened your eyes. "Hello, Draco. How are you?" she asked in a friendly voice she no doubt used on the Minister's visitors.

"I'm doing well, thank you," said Draco. "I moved back to England."

"You did?" asked Ginny. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"I'm planning on single-handedly pulling England out of her economic depression by financing several charity events, starting new businesses, and increasing the flow of money to the common people."

Ginny stared at him in disbelief, and opened her mouth but then closed it, taking in his expression. "You're serious, aren't you? Only a Malfoy would believe he could do all of that by himself."

"You're right; it's impossible. I guess that means you'll have to help me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Turns out I'm in need of a business manager. I want you."

"Me? I have a job."

"Mine's a better one."

"Give me three good reasons why I should," challenged Ginny.

"I'll give you five," said Draco. He sat in the plush armchair sideways so that his legs hung over the armrest. "Firstly, you went on after Hogwart's to have an internship under the prestigious Abner Dermot, who is a businessman of legendary proportions with a cunning that is the envy of envy investor and who is also a very good friend of mine, and he spoke very highly of you saying that while your business savvy is only mediocre, you possess management skills that surpass even his own. However, you were unable to continue your apprenticeship because of the economic ruin of England and you were forced to take the first available well-paying job to help support your family. Which, really Ginevra, shows a touching devotion. You take so much on yourself." That was said in a mocking tone of voice.

"Malfoy, you can take your offer and shove-"

"Secondly," Draco spoke over her, "as I am not in entirely good graces with the English wizards at the moment, I need someone they will trust, and who is better than Gryffindor good-girl with the Order of Merlin whose father was tragically killed in the war? Not only do you have their pity, but also their respect for going on to succeed in life. Thirdly, I refuse to have a male business manager. We will be working long hours and spending much time together and I much prefer rumors of a heterosexual manner than ones of the other nature. Fourthly, this job could get you any other job you could ever want, all I am asking is, at the most, two years from you, it will most likely only be one, maybe one and a half, if I'm lucky. Fifthly, we are going to be in the news often and I need a pretty face along with brains."

"Listen here, ferret," said Ginny, smarting at his superior tone. "First, it is an honor to support my family, nothing you would ever know. Second, the reason you are not in good graces with Britain is because you pulled your investments out of eleven different companies four days after you got your high and mighty Malfoy Enterprises-"

"Which isn't my fault, they went on strike until I re-joined a few companies that supported the Dark Arts and the late Dark Lord."

"Well, maybe you should have given those reasons, because now your little act is being cited as the beginning of the depression."

"Which started a good three years, almost four years, after I left."

"Doesn't change the populations mind. Thirdly, the mere thought of rumors of an amorous relationship between the two of us is disgusting. Fourthly, after two more years here, I can get any job I want. Fifthly, I refuse to be picked because of my pretty face."

"It pays five hundred galleons."

"Malfoy, I get five hundred here as well."

"Not five hundred monthly. Five hundred a week."

Dead silence.

"A week?" asked Ginny. "Are you daft?"

"Overtime is worth fifty galleons an hour."

"No one is worth that much."

"The way I see it, it's merely helping the economy. I pay you lots, you spend lots, the stores make more, the workers get more so they can spend more at other shops so those workers get more, and every one ends up happy."

"I have a nice job here," said Ginny.

"Ginny," said Cecily. "Prenez le travail.(4)"

"Don't encourage him," snapped Ginny.

"He doesn't know what I'm saying."

"Oh," said Ginny. She turned to Cecily. "Je devrait?(5)"

Cecily nodded.

Ginny shook her head. "No, I'm sorry Malfoy, but I have a job here."

The closed door on the left opened and three wizards left after shaking a tall, stately wizard's hand.

"Reason number six," said Draco, leaning back and interlacing his fingers behind his head. "You're going to be fired." He idly swung his legs, which were still over the armrest, and smiled at Ginny who was glaring at him.

"Malfoy, the Minister is here, you had better behave," she hissed as the three men left and the graying wizard came out of his office and walked over to her.

"Et qui est ceci qui rend visite à mon secrétaire? (6)"

"No-one," said Ginny glaring at Malfoy, who was hidden from the Minister's view by the back of the chair, although his legs sticking out were quite obvious.

"Oh, an English someone?" asked the Minister and Draco could hear the smile in his voice. The Minister peeked around and Draco grinned in greeting.

"'Allo, Minister. I've come to steal your secretary."

He saw Ginny's face turn red from embarrassment out of the corner of his eye, and he heard Cecily's gasp. But the Minister grinned back.

"Monsieur Malfoy! It is good to see you again. Tell me, how are things, old friend?"

"Oh, you know," said Draco standing up and shaking the Minister's hand. "Same old, same old." He could barely suppress the smirk that threatened to spill onto his lips at Ginny's shocked face. In order to exasperate her even further, he lapsed into his perfect French. No, it was not perfect French, it was native French, complete with a light Paris accent. "Va-t-elle comment votre épouse? (7)"

They exchanged pleasantries in rapid fire French, until Draco brought the conversation to the present concern, switching back to English.

"I'm afraid the time has come, Henri."

The Minister sighed. "So soon?"

"Afraid so, but you can have her back in two years."

"I doubt she would want to return," said the Minister. "Ginevra, it has been a pleasure working with you. You are the best secretary a man could ever have."

"Wait, what?" asked Ginny, a dangerous flare in her eye. "You agree with him?"

"Of course. Monsieur Malfoy is a good friend, and I understand he plans on setting your country straight again. For that, he will need you."

"You're-but, that's-I-," her stutterings were silenced by the phone on her desk ringing. She picked it up and in a pleasing, professional voice said, "Bonjour. Le bureau du minister.(8)" She listened for a few moments and then covered the mouthpiece. "For you, Minister. Line one. It's Goodard."

"Ah, very well," said the Minister. "I shall get it in my office." He returned to his room and shut the door behind him. Ginny waited until he picked up in the other room then hung up. She stared at him and Draco felt slightly guilty.

"You speak French," she said finally.

"My first language," said Draco. "My mother was French by birth and I grew up here." She nodded but didn't say anything. "I'll cover medical and emergency expenses for you and your immediate family," he found himself promising.

She considered it. "Cover for my extended family as well, and you've got yourself a manager."

"Deal," said Draco.

--------------------------

I know we find out in HBP that Blaise is African, but I always pictured him as Italian, I don't know why, but I do. If it bugs you, ignore it.

Translations: 1- The Minister is in a meeting.

2- A handsome, English man. Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?

3-I don't have a boyfriend

4-Take the job

5-Should I?

6-And who is this visiting my secretary?

7-How is your wife?

8-Hello. Minister's Office.

None of these translations are mine, cause I don't speak French. I got them off of a friend, who is actually failing French, so I don't think they're that good. But you get the point.

So, please tell me what you think of it now that it's finally six years later. I want to know if it is as good as the back ground, or if there are some places that need work. Please read and review!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would sleep in 'til noon. Every day. For the rest of my life.

Thanks to Wizzabee: I hope that this one will make you laugh as well!

Also: Alexandria J. Malfoy: I'm glad you're loving the continuation, and I hope I updated soon enough for you.

And DCoD: Constructive criticism! Yay, thank you muchly, and I applied it. There's more Draco thinking in this one, and more bantering.

RER: Read, Enjoy, Review

---------------------------------------

"I expect you at work every morning at seven am," said Draco, as he strode through the streets of Diagon Alley. It was early afternoon and they had just gotten through customs.

"Seven?" asked Ginny, almost running to keep up with him.

"Seven, and not a second later, starting tomorrow," said Draco, not slowing down a bit. "You can go home at six, but I expect you to stay after if there is more to be done, and you will be staying after quite a bit. If you are not feeling well and are not coming into work, I want an excuse from the doctor. If you want free time, you need to schedule it three weeks in advance but if there is a meeting that day, you won't get off even if you schedule two months in advance. I'll give you Christmas and New Years off, and that's it for the holidays. I really do hope you realize what you got yourself into," said Draco, turning to look at her.

"What I got myself into?" demanded Ginny. "You practically forced-,"

"Not now, Ginevra, we've come to your flat."

"My what?" asked Ginny as Draco grabbed her hand and tugged her into the apartment building.

"Your flat," said Draco. "It's a block from my office building. Let's go see if your luggage has come in." He led the way into the elevator. "Sixth floor," he said and the elevator took them up. Draco stepped to the door bearing the numbers 612, and pulled out a key. He unlocked the door, gave her the key, and walked in, Ginny following behind him.

He watched her as she explored her apartment, a look of shock and pleasure on her face and his lips quirked up into a smile at her astonishment. All of her belongings had arrived, minus her old furniture. That had been replaced with newer, more expensive sets. The living room was done in shades of cream, grey, and periwinkle blue with navy armchairs and a sofa. The kitchen was the same pastel blue as in the living room, but with pale yellow accents. She had a small study done in earth tones, a bath done in dusty rose and off-white, and her bedroom which had a rich cherry hardwood floor with oriental rugs and a four poster bed with a matching comforter and cerulean blue bed curtains.

"You do realize that I will most likely never have time to be in here," said Ginny, coming out of the walk in closet. "So all of this is wasted."

"Perhaps," said Draco, still smiling because she was smiling.

"Where are my clothes? They're not in the closet, or do I have to unpack them myself?"

"I had them thrown out."

"What?"

"You're getting a new wardrobe."

"I'm what?"

"You heard me. You are now the business manager of Malfoy Enterprises; I can't have you run around looking like you did in Hogwarts with second hand robes and all."

Her expression hardened. "You sure know how to ruin the mood, don't you Malfoy?"

"It's Mr. Malfoy now," said Draco. "After all, I'm your boss." He knew he was exasperating her; it was a reflex because for a moment she was smiling _at_ him, and he found that he liked it.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," she snapped. "Who the hell gave you the right to go throw away all of my clothes? I happened to be very attached to some of my things."

"You'll get over it," said Draco, shrugging. He felt better now that she was angry at him; he was used to this reaction.

"I do not believe this," said Ginny, shaking her head in helplessness. "I do not bloody believe this."

"No swearing," said Draco. "It's not good for publicity. Only I'm allowed to swear."

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him with such an infuriated stare that for a split second he thought she would hex him, but then someone stepped out of the fireplace and both of them turned to see Pansy Zabini holding Amandine. To Draco's surprise, Ginny broke into a smile.

"Hello, Pansy. What are you and Mandy doing here?"

"I'm here to take Draco's new business manager shopping. I didn't know he meant you," said Pansy. "When did you quit your job in France?"

"Three hours ago," said Ginny. "I suppose you could say Malfoy abducted me."

"You could say that _Mr_. Malfoy abducted you," Draco corrected her.

"That albino git with the oversized ego barged into my office, blackmailed the Minister into firing me, hired me and then decided to throw away all of my clothes because he didn't feel they were up to his oh-so-high standards," retorted Ginny. "And when I am not working, I shall address you the way I please, ferret."

Draco blinked; he had not been expecting that. He knew that she had guts, she was a Gryffindor after all, but to blatantly insult him like that took a fearlessness he didn't know she possessed.

Pansy laughed, then threw Floo powder into the fireplace. "Let's go before Draco throws a temper-tantrum."

"We don't have to hurry. His brain is still trying to process what I just said and it will take a good while before it sinks in."

"Belladonna's Designs," ordered Pansy.

"We're going to Belladonna's?" Ginny asked.

"He's paying," said Pansy. "Come on."

The two witches disappeared into the flames and Draco tugged on his hair. Suddenly he wondered if it was such a good idea to have Ginny as his business manager; she would no doubt drive him insane. He left the apartment, locking the door behind him with his own key. He had one more stop to make that afternoon.

----------------

Twenty minutes later and he was standing outside a rundown apartment building which had seen much better days. He entered, found that the elevator was out of service, and climbed seven flights of stairs. He knocked on room 703. He waited and then pounded on the door.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and crashed his fist on the wood. "Potter, I know you're in there," he called. "Open the door!"

Nothing. He tried the handle which turned easily.

"Potter, I'm coming in!" he shouted and opened the door.

The room he stepped into was dim and obviously wasn't used much because a layer of dust covered the pictures hanging on the white walls. There was a television, a coffee table bearing a few whiskey bottles (one of them still had a few sips left), and an unconscious figure on the brown, corduroy couch. Draco shut the door behind him and looked around him in surprise. He'd heard that Harry was devoted to his work as an Auror and only went home after a case, but he hadn't been expecting this.

"This entire visit to this bloody country has been a surprise for the worse," he muttered to himself as he crossed the room to the passed-out wizard. "Potter, wake up," he commanded. Harry didn't even flinch. "Fine, you want to do this the hard way?"

Draco found the bathroom, turned on the shower as cold as it would go and plugged up the drain in pure spite and then returned to the drunk Auror. He gently lifted his former classmate, so as not to wake him prematurely, and winced at how light he was. He made his way back to the bathroom and dropped his ex-nemesis into the frigid water and underneath the freezing spray.

Harry came to in an instant, giving an incoherent shout of surprise, and launching himself out of the tub. "What the bloody hell!" he yelled, staggering to his feet and whipping wet, shaggy hair out of his eyes and nearly losing his glasses in the process.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," said Draco, shutting off the water and facing the shivering man. "How are you today?"

Harry blinked his emerald green eyes. "Malfoy?" he asked stupidly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," said Draco, shrugging. "Thought I'd stop by."

"What are you doing in the neighborhood?"

"I moved back. It seems the economy can't live without me." Draco studied Harry. There were deep, black circles under his red-rimmed eyes, his skin was pale, his face gaunt, and his hair was as unruly as ever, though that may have more to do with his impromptu shower. "You look like shit," said Draco bluntly.

"Yeah, well what do you care?" asked Harry, trying to brush past him and go back to the living room but Draco blocked his way.

"I'm here to save the wizarding world from depression and here is the very savior of the wizarding world himself depressed and drunk at three thirty in the afternoon on a Tuesday."

"I just got back from an assignment, give me a break," said Harry, pushing past him and stumbling slightly to the kitchenette. Draco followed him, watching as he pulled out a beer from the refrigerator, popped the top, and took a swig.

"The assignment which included staking out an old lady's house and arresting her grandson because he had the Dark Mark."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," said Harry self-righteously, "because I am an Auror and that's classified. Besides, he was meeting a bunch of other men and they were plotting something."

"That something was a prank to pull on the Muggles in the subway, and now all of them are going to be put under watch from the Ministry for a harmless prank and everyone is going to avoid them like the plague."

"He had the Dark Mark," said Harry. "I vowed to put all of the Death Eaters in Azkaban."

"He was sixteen when he got the damn tattoo. This is not helping things."

"Like you would know," accused Harry. "You just up and left didn't you? You ran away."

"I had business to do," said Draco.

"Business that took six years?"

"As a matter of fact," Draco began, but Harry cut him off.

"Don't even start 'as a matter of facting' me, Malfoy," Harry spat. "I thought that maybe you had started caring about other people, that maybe you actually wanted this country to get better, but no, you packed up your bags and we haven't seen you since. After your big talks about getting along and forgiveness and all that crap you spouted off, you didn't even bother to stick around to help make it work. But then again, you always were Slytherin like that weren't you, always looking out for yourself and let everyone else hang. So don't even begin to say that you had business, because the only job that mattered was fixing the giant rip in this country that the war created."

Harry ended his tirade by marching into the den and throwing himself onto his couch. Draco was left standing in the kitchen, his mind trying to wrap around what Potter had said. He had never thought of it that way. Oh, he knew he was a coward for running away like that, but the war, the death of his parents, the company and his new found popularity had been too much for a seventeen year old to handle, especially since the only one he could go to for advice was an anti-social, cynical Potions Master who hadn't even told him he was a spy. But he supposed his self-imposed exile hadn't helped things at all. He was the only one to stick up for those who had ties to the Dark Lord, and even though he had appealed to the people for justice, he hadn't stayed around to make sure that it happened. His plea for forgiveness must have been drowned out by his departure, and he had never even told most of them why he was leaving. He was partly to blame for this mess England was in now, and he felt guilt rear its ugly head.

He swore under his breath, in French because the words were so much more colorful, and then grabbed a beer out of the fridge, followed Harry into the living room, and slumped into a raggedy armchair.

"By all means, help yourself," said Harry, who was lying on his stomach with his head smushed into a pillow, but turned in Draco's direction.

"Thanks," said Draco. He pulled off the top and took a long draught; he was going to need it for what he was about to say next. "Look, Potter, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just left like that, and you are right to hold me responsible for what happened. I suppose that it is, well some of it at least, is my fault." His pride was harder to swallow than that cheap alcohol he had just downed, but now that the words were out he felt better, though he would not admit that fact to anyone.

Harry smiled and closed his eyes.

"Potter, don't you dare pass out on me," snapped Draco. Merlin, he had just apologized and admitted his faults for the first time in his life and he was falling asleep?

"I'm merely trying to commit all of this moment to memory," said Harry, his eyes still closed. "Draco Malfoy apologizing and confessing that he was in the wrong." He suddenly opened his eyes, frowned, and sat up. "Alright, who are you and what the hell did you do to Malfoy?"

"Potter, shut the bloody hell up and if you dare tell anyone about this I will not hesitate to hex you until the Boy-Who-Sodding-Lived is the Boy-Who-Wished-He-Didn't," Draco snarled. Dammit, he had apologized and he had the gall to laugh at him.

"There's the amazing ferret we all know and love," said Harry, grinning at him unrepentantly.

"What fates did I offend to deserve this?" Draco muttered, and drained half of the beer in a long gulp.

"So, as happy I am that you decided to come all of this way to apologize to me, I can't help but think that there is another, if perhaps slightly less important reason, to why you are here," said Harry.

"I don't think I'll tell you now," said Draco, trying to regain the upper hand.

"Fine with me," said Harry. "What I don't know can't hurt me."

"But it can't benefit you either," said Draco, getting exasperated. Honestly, he didn't know why he bothered with temperamental Gryffindors. America had been too kind to him; he had forgotten what it was like to verbally spar with real wits.

"Oh well," said Harry, completely unconcerned. He lay back down on his stomach again. Draco took another gulp of the beer, reveling in the fire that burned its way down his throat. He watched Harry awkwardly take a gulp of his own, which was quite a feat seeing as he was in a prone position.

"I own the Chudley Canons," he said.

"You can't own them," said Harry. "It's a national team."

"Fine, I'm its biggest sponsor. I hired the coach, and all of the players, England couldn't afford to keep it running so they let me fund it under their name. I practically run it."

"That's nice," said Harry taking another gulp.

"I want you to be Seeker."

Harry spewed out his alcohol and sat up choking. Draco watched bemused, one eyebrow raised, as the amber colored liquid drooled down his chin and neck, soaking his shirt.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I want you to be Seeker," said Draco.

Harry stared at him. "I'm an Auror."

"So? Quit."

"Quit? Just like that?"

"Yeah, something like it. Aren't you getting sick of arresting person after person, ruining lives and families all for the sake of a war that has been over for nearly six years?"

"I'm not that good at Quidditch," said Harry.

Draco snorted. "I'm a good Seeker, Potter, granted I'm a better Chaser, but the point is I had professional trainers teach me, and you beat me every single time. You're good. Good enough that is, but with a little training, you can be number one easily."

Harry wiped his chin with the back of his hand, staring at the floor. "I don't know."

"You don't have to know today. Here," Draco handed him his business card. "When you make up your mind, throw in some Floo, the card will either take you to my office or study; it all depends where I am. And don't lose that either, it's rather expensive."

Harry stared at the card. "What do you mean you were a better Chaser?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "I was better at Chaser, but Lucius wanted me to be Seeker, to be the most important on the team. We used to have such terrific rows about it, throwing dark, illegal curses at each other and what not, but he always won in the end." Draco finished his beer and set the bottle down on the table. "I need to know by tomorrow, Potter. The team has to start training if we're ever going to win the World Cup. It'd be a lot easier if we had a great Seeker, so think about it." He stood and walked to the door.

"I'll think about it," Harry called after him. "And thanks Draco."

He turned at the door and smiled. "No problem Harry," he said and then left.

He made his way back to his office building as tomorrow he would be making an announcement to the press that he was here to stay and that he would be opening several businesses in the area. It was sure to be a hectic day and he had to make sure everything ran smoothly. Not to mention he had been getting owl after owl from companies who wanted funding and the Minister of Magic wanted to meet him to discuss a private matter at his soonest convenience and he still had to checkup on his companies overseas. Sometimes he thought it would just be better if he worked for his companies instead of managing them.

His office building was in the heart of the business sector of Diagon Alley. Here the buildings were much like those in Muggle London, though not nearly as tall. His was three stories and his office was on top. It was extremely professional looking, with white carpets and walls which were adorned with black and white photos. His large desk was deep mahogany and his chair black leather that faced the door. He had windows on each side of the room, one looking out into the rest of the floor and one looking outside, and both of the blinds were pulled shut.

He worked at his desk until his eyes wouldn't focus on the laptop screen in front of him. That was the marvel of modern wizard magic, the incorporation of Muggle technology into the wizarding world. Every wizard company, even the smallest ones, had at least one computer and phone line, thanks to himself and the company he had joined right after NEWT's. It had been pure gut feeling that he had partnered with the company in California that was merging the technologies and it had paid off.

He glanced at his watch; it was only seven in the evening. Normally, he would have continued working until nine or later, but he had traveled from the States, to England, to France and back again, and all of the different time zones was pulling a number on his internal clock. Not to mention the fact that all of the long distance portkeying really took toll on his body. He was stiff, sore, had a headache, and going home where he could collapse on a couch and fall asleep while watching the news sounded ideal. He packed up his laptop and a few papers and Apparated into the front entrance of Malfoy Estate.

"There you are," said Blaise, who came into the hall when he heard him arrive. "We waited to eat 'til you came."

"You shouldn't have," said Draco, surrendering his things to Rolly who would take them to his study. "What if I hadn't come home until nine?"

"Oh, we were giving you until seven-thirty and then we were going to drag you back," said Blaise leading him into the dining room, a large rectangle of a space with an ebony table with silver accents and matching chairs.

"I though I would just head up to my room," Draco told Blaise. "I'm rather tired."

"Nonsense," said Pansy. "Besides, we have guests." She gestured to Ginny and Harry who were seated at the table immersed in conversation.

"Why are they here?" asked Draco.

"Because Ginny and I ran into Harry on our way back from shopping and since he decided he would be your Seeker, I decided it would be grand to have them over and we could have a company party."

Draco looked over at Harry, who was now looking over at him. "You're going to be Seeker?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"That was easier then I thought," said Draco. "Let me go owl Higgins then."

"You can owl him after dinner," said Pansy, steering him to the head of the table and sitting him in the chair.

"Thank you, mother," said Draco bitingly. Harry stifled a laugh; Ginny didn't bother. He glared at her. Blaise and Pansy sat across from the two Gryffindors on his left and dinner was served by two house elves.

"So Higgins is the coach then?" asked Harry. "How ever did you manage to get him?"

"Every man has his price," said Draco noncommittally.

"Wasn't he that coach that led the Tornadoes to the World Cup four times in a row in the eighties?" asked Pansy.

"Yeah," said Blaise, "but they never managed to win one of them."

"I read about that," said Harry. "They fired him after that."

"Which really was a shame," said Blaise, "he was such a brilliant strategist."

"Now they have that new coach," said Pansy. "The one with the dark hair." She looked meaningfully at Ginny and they both sighed.

"He is so handsome," said Ginny. "That picture of him in the Daily Prophet last week…" she trailed off.

"He has the most gorgeous eyes," said Pansy dreamily.

"Hey, you're married, Woman," said Blaise.

"Too bad," said Ginny. "I guess I get him now."

"No way," said Pansy, "you can't have him all to yourself."

"Fine, I'll share," said Ginny. "But only Tuesdays and Wednesdays."

"I can't believe you two," said Harry, shaking his head as he laughed, "splitting up a guy like that."

"It's girl talk," said Blaise. "I grew up with three sisters. You didn't have any did you?"

"No," said Harry. "I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle, and there was just me and Dudley."

"Dudley?" asked Pansy. "Is that a dog?"

Harry and Ginny laughed.

"No, my cousin," Harry explained. "He was this really fat, stupid kid."

"Sound like your friends in school, Drake," said Blaise, smiling at him and referring to Crabbe and Goyle. The four burst into laughter.

Draco shrugged. "They did what I asked them to, and never blabbed a word," he said. "And they weren't loud." He added that last bit on in a meaningful tone as his head was pounding and bed was sounding nicer and nicer.

Blaise laughed. "You'll have to excuse Draco," he told Harry and Ginny. "He was an only child and I'm afraid he may have been poorly socially adapted."

"You don't say," said Ginny. "Is that why he is glaring at us all?"

"Not at all," said Draco smoothly. "I'm glaring at you all because you have atrocious table manners." It was a half-truth. While their manners weren't excellent, they were by no means terrible. It was the miner slip-up here and there, like using the wrong fork or continually switching hands after cutting a bit of meat. Of course, Blaise and Pansy were both fine, but he had been taught proper manners since he was four and so he pulled off perfect dining etiquette with an unassuming grace that he knew was attractive.

"And I suppose that you are the epitome of manners," said Ginny, goading him on.

"Even if I was, I couldn't tell you because boasting about such things isn't polite," said Draco.

"Neither is commenting on the manners of your guests," said Ginny, smiling sweetly.

"Ohhhh," said Blaise and Pansy, looking at him expecting a come back.

"I never said I was polite," said Draco. "And you of all people should know that after spending part of the day with me packing."

"Yes, but I was going to attribute it to the fact that you were tired from your trip to England and then to France."

"How generous of you," said Draco. "Really too generous as you haven't received your first paycheck yet."

"And I see everything is money to you."

"And everything to you is about duty and devotion."

"How do you see that?"

"You are supporting members of your family aren't you?" asked Draco. "You were working at a job you detest to help them and now you have taken a job you hate even more. Seems to me that it is a burden, but one that is expected of you. Do you always do what you feel is your duty?"

"That is not duty," said Ginny, disbelief and repulsion in her voice, "that is love. Something that you obviously know nothing about."

She stared at him with disgust in her eyes and the rest of the table looked uncomfortably down at their plates, yet wondering with baited breath on what he would say next.

He didn't know what to say to next. He could think of things all right; he had several cruel remarks all lined up in his head, something along the lines of 'look where love got your family, too many kids and not enough cash' or 'it's stupid ideas like that one that created the lower class', but for some reason he held his tongue. He supposed she was right in a way; he didn't know much about love. His parents had surely never loved him, and he had no other relatives. Sev probably loved him, though he didn't know how to show it, and Blaise and Pansy loved him like a brother, but that was the only experience he had ever had with love. Some people would no doubt call that ironic, that he was so rich and yet so poor at the same time, and then they would pity him. He didn't see the big deal, because as he had never known love, he had no idea what he was missing, nor did he plan on finding out.

He looked down from Ginny's gaze, suddenly finding the rest of the meal unappetizing though he had only had half and he hadn't had a meal before this one, unless you counted a quick cup of coffee as he waited for the portkey to England. His cell phone rang, emitting an urgent sounding electronic melody. Draco frowned as he recognized the theme from Mission Impossible, that theme meant trouble.

"Excuse me," he said, scooting back his chair and standing. He tossed the napkin from his lap onto his plate while pulling the phone from his pocket and flipping it open.

"Malfoy," he said, holding the device to his ear.

"Draco, we've got a slight problem. Benington is pulling out."

"Shit," said Draco. "Hold on one moment, will you?" He didn't wait for an answer but covered the mouthpiece with his free hand. "I hope you will excuse me," he said formally to his dinner guests. "There's an emergency overseas that I need to see to. Please enjoy the rest of your evening." He inclined his head to the four and left for his private study while resuming his conversation.

He was off the phone at ten, and began more letters, including the one to Higgins. He didn't remember closing his eyes, but the next thing he knew, Blaise was shaking his shoulder gently.

"Come on, Drake, you need to get to bed."

He lifted his head, his unfocused eyes blinking rapidly to make sense of the shape moving in front of him.

"What time is it?" he managed.

"Eleven," said Blaise. "Everyone's gone now."

Draco felt Blaise slip an arm around him and help him to his feet. He let his friend lead him to his room.

"Thanks, Blaise," he said.

"No problem, Draco. What are best mates for, right?"

His friend's smile made him smile as he flopped onto his bed without bothering to change or crawl under the covers. Perhaps this love thing wasn't so bad after all.

---------------------------------------

Awwww, how cute. And that love is in a purely plutonic sense. So, what do you think of the chapter? Good, bad, ugly? It was kinda hard writing the Draco/ Ginny scenes, because it's hard to be witty at one in the morning, but I hope did okay.

Please let me know what you think! Please review! Please! Look, I've resorted to begging, pathetic, but I'll do anything for reviews…….sorta. Review!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would have a massage. Every day. For the rest of my life.

SilvinArrow: Thank you very much! And I hope you didn't mind the wait too much, it's been way busy over here.

Rema: I saw your reviews and nearly cried when I read them. You flatter me perhaps a little too much, but I rather like it. I would just like to give you a huge thank you for reviewing the later chapters as well, and for complimenting my writing style. Those reviews were perhaps some of the sweetest things any one has ever said about my writing, and it really means more to me than I can express in this meager little paragraph. Thank you again.

Wizzabee: I write best at night, (this chapter was finished at two-thirty in the morning), but it's a little detrimental to my health, thanks for your review!

AngeliqueCollins: Thanks!

AlexandriaJ.Malfoy: I didn't know if people would like my idea of Harry, but I'm glad you did. I just thought that he would be a workaholic who gets drunk in his free time because he was so used to saving the wizarding world and then he couldn't do a thing in the depression, so he would just collapse

DCoD: I'm sorry it's taken so long, read the notes at the bottom, because i have excuses, and thanks for your constant reviews

----------------------------------

Draco pushed open the doors to his office building at exactly seven twenty-nine, his laptop bag in his hand and a file in the other. His black, dragon hide dress shoes made no noise as he crossed the white and grey tiled floor, and all around him people spoke reverently in greeting as they passed him.

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy."

"Hello, sir."

"Morning, Mr. Malfoy, sir."

He responded to the hails with a curt nod and strode straight to the elevators, on the way plopping the file onto the receptionists desk with a "As soon as possible, Linda."

"Yes, sir, and good morning, sir," Linda called after him.

He walked to the last elevator, which only reacted to him and stepped on without a break in his stride as the doors hissed open on his approach.

"Third floor," he ordered brusquely and the elevator whisked upwards. He stepped off the elevator and onto the third floor at exactly seven thirty and started towards his office, his personal secretary falling into step beside him. She was not some young floozy like so many other rich wizards had for personal secretaries, but a thirty year old witch with a definite hippy style clothing he had hired over in America.

"Press conference at one, meeting with the Minister at two, a conference with Bere's Research for New Potions at three thirty at their headquarters, and a call with Clancy at four thirty."

Draco frowned. "Since when are you so organized?"

"Since your new business manager, Ginny, now your coffee is on your desk, you have a fresh supply of quills and ink, and I added a stress ball just in case."

Draco shot her a look, but he was at his door and so she retreated to the safety of her cubicle right outside his office. He would yell at her later, he decided and opened his door. Ginny was examining a picture on his wall and turned when he entered, but she didn't start or blush when he walked in, but rather smiled.

"Nice picture," she said.

He stared for a split second; she looked amazing. Her hair was down in a sophisticated layered style that was a few inches past her shoulders. She was wearing a sage colored robe that was open over a deep cream blouse and a skirt that was mottled from dark brown to a golden tan. The blouse had an open neck revealing quite a bit of skin decorated with a beaded necklace of amber and green beads that tied the outfit together. She looked stunning.

"Nice outfit," said Draco, tearing his eyes away.

She blushed. "Well, thanks to you."

Draco made a non-committal noise and plopped his things down on his desk and then took a sip of the coffee in the mug waiting for him. Cuban bean, his favorite.

"Look, Malfoy," said Ginny suddenly. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. It wasn't my place to say anything and it was rude of me."

Draco looked at her in surprise. "It's fine," he said. "And it's Mr. Malfoy, you are at work now. I trust Shells filled you in on everything?"

"Shells?" asked Ginny.

"Shelia, my secretary, the American."

"Oh, yes," said Ginny, "and I have some things for you to look over actually." She handed him a folder. "This pertains to the conference with Bere, the latest press conferences they've had, a bit of background on the company, and their financial situation."

Draco took the folder in surprise. "Done already?"

"I had to do the same thing on them for the Minister last week, so it wasn't too difficult. I'll have a report on Clancy done in a few hours."

"Perfect, now I'm going to need you at the press conference with me and also the meeting with the Minister and Bere as well, can you do that?"

"Of course," said Ginny.

"Good. Have you settled in alright? Desk set up to your liking?"

"Oh yes, thank you for that. I really like my office."

"Good," said Draco. "There's tea in the break room if you need it, there's coffee as well."

Ginny made a face. "They've corrupted you over in America. Well, thank you Mr. Malfoy, I believe I shall get to work now. I'll bring you the report around ten."

"That is acceptable, 'til then Ginevra."

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. Draco watched her through the half closed blinds and then tore his eyes away from the window. He shut the curtains completely and got to work reviewing Ginny's report. She had done a very thorough job, complete with a page of the projected future of the Bere company. He put aside the report and began overlooking the budget. Most presidents of companies hired accountants to oversee the budget, and companies the size of Malfoy Enterprises usually had a team of accountants, but Draco didn't trust his finances with anyone else.

He was completely buried in withdrawals, deposits, and investments and also a phone call from a potion business in Canada, when Ginny came in to give him her report. He didn't even realize that she had come and gone until he noticed the manila folder on the edge of his desk labeled in a neat script. He glanced at his clock, nine fifty. He smiled and returned to the budget.

At twelve he stopped, figuring he would finish it tomorrow, besides it was lunch time and he was hungry. He grabbed his coat and headed out, then on a sudden impulse, made his way to Ginny's office. The door was open and she was on the phone. He lounged in the doorway until she hung up and spotted him.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

"Lunch. You're going too."

She raised her eyebrows. "Am I now?"

"Yes," said Draco. He retrieved her russet, fur-lined coat from the hanger in the corner and held it out to her.

She sighed, but put her quill down. "I'll have you know that I am very busy."

"So'm I," said Draco. "Now come on. It's not good to be on the news and have your stomach growl."

She laughed and walked over to him, arm out for her coat. He wouldn't let her take it, but rather held it so she could easily slide her arms into the sleeves.

"So you can be polite," she said as they walked to the elevator.

"Only when I feel like it," said Draco.

He took her to a nice restaurant a block away from the office that Linda had recommended. It seemed to be the place for rich businessmen to go on lunch breaks accompanied by blonde, simpering secretaries whose suits were meant to attract such men. Draco couldn't help but feel a purely masculine pride in knowing that his lunch date was by far classier than any other present. _It's not a date_, he told himself sternly, though he couldn't help but smirk as several men turned there heads to watch as he and Ginny passed them, and then he felt a strange desire to hex them for looking.

He guided them to a table in the corner by a window with a very nice view of the city, but also afforded him the comfort of knowing he could keep his eye on the entire room without turning his head.

"This is nice," said Ginny.

"I hope so," he said, turning his attention to her. "I haven't had time to scope out the best restaurants."

"I forgot you only came here yesterday," said Ginny. "You seem to be completely familiar with every thing."

"I designed the office building," said Draco, "so I know where everything is and Shells has made sure everything is running like it did in California."

"How is it over there?" asked Ginny, but his response was interrupted by a waiter approaching them.

"Welcome to Vincenzo's. Here are your menus, and some water to start you off. I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders."

He left and for a moment they looked over the choices.

"Decided yet?" Draco asked after a few minutes.

She looked up at him. "I'm a girl," she said. "I will not have fully decided until the waiter has come back to get my order, and then I will most likely get something totally different then what I was thinking about."

Draco laughed, surprising himself and her. "It can't be that hard."

"What are you getting?"

"The pesto spaghetti," said Draco.

"What's that?"

"Pasta with a spinach and basil seasoning and tomatoes and onions. It's quite good."

"I don't know," she said, frowning.

"Do yourself a favor and don't stress about it," said Draco. "I guarantee that you will like it."

"How do you know?" asked Ginny.

"I just do," said Draco.

"Well, alright," said Ginny.

The waiter came back then. "Have you decided?" he asked.

"Yes, we'll each have the pesto spaghetti. I'll have a gillywater to drink and she will have-?"

"The same," said Ginny.

"Very good," said the waiter. "Your food will be up shortly." He left and Ginny turned back to Draco.

"So, how was California?"

"Sunny," said Draco. "And warm. A couple of earthquakes, but nothing too serious."

"Were you there for the entire six years?"

"Mostly. I did make a few trips out of country, but for the most part I was in the States."

"Well, at least you didn't pick up their accent," said Ginny.

"I made sure not to," said Draco. "I don't think I would have been able to live with myself if I have."

Ginny laughed, and Draco watched her, noticing the way her hazel eyes lit up when she did and how her nose crinkled slightly. His lips curved into a smile as he looked at her, and for a moment he forgot all about press conferences and business.

--------------------------------

Draco checked his reflection in the mirror one last time. In a minute he would be the focus of every news camera in Wizarding England, and everything had to be perfect. Beside him Ginny self consciously smoothed her hair. Draco tried not to smile, remembering the pleasant lunch they had shared. He had to focus on business now. He checked his watch then turned to his business manager.

"Shall we then?" he asked and led the way out into the first floor of the building that was flocked with reporters, journalists, and radio hosts. A platform had been set up in the back of the room and that is where Draco stepped now, Ginny right behind him. He stood in front of the podium and raised his hands for silence.

"I promise I will field your questions at the end," Draco told the reporters. "But right now I'm pretty sure you are all wondering why I am here." Polite laughter, which was what he had been aiming for. He launched into his speech. "As many of you know, Malfoy Enterprises has grown significantly in these last six years since I inherited it from the late Lucius Malfoy. Until now, I have dealt only with companies overseas and have created a flourishing industry. I wish to do that here as well. Starting today I am opening up three new businesses and will hire workers directly from England. Those businesses are MagicTec, the revolutionary company that combines Muggle technology and magic, The AllChemists, which is a research facility for new Potions, and New Foundations, which is a construction company. I estimate that approximately five hundred job offers will result directly from these openings, and perhaps more down the line." There was real applause this time. He waited until it abated before continuing. "Along with creating new jobs, I also wish to foster safe and healthy communities and so the first job New Foundations has is sponsored by myself, and that is building an entire new housing complex, all wizard, for the employees of Malfoy Enterprises." He waited for that to sink in. "I am now open for questions."

"Mr. Malfoy, what do you have to say to allegations that your withdrawal of several English companies nearly six years ago started the depression?" called out a witch.

"You are suggesting that I single handedly collapsed the entire country. As much as I would like to flatter myself in thinking that I have that type of influence, I am going to have to say that those accusations are entirely false." More laughter. "I would also like to point out that I pulled out of those companies six years ago, and it wasn't until two years ago that the economic collapse came. My reasons for drawing out of those companies are completely legitimate. They dabbled in areas that weren't quite legal and were a little too close to the Dark Arts for my comfort. Nest question please."

"Are you planning on staying in England?"

"Yes. I have no plans on leaving England for any reason at all. Except my demise of course, which is hopefully a long way in coming," he added on. The reporters laughed even more, delighted that their new celebrity was handsome, rich, and had a sense of self-deprecating humor.

"Is it true that you own the Chudley Canons?"

"The Chudley Canons are a National Team, representing Southern England. I am merely sponsoring them as I am a devout believer in Quidditch."

"But aren't you the only sponsor?"

"Well, yes," Draco admitted. "And it does come in handy as I do get my way most often. And speaking of getting my way, I would like to announce that the seeker position has been filled by none other that Mr. Harry Potter."

That created a stir, and it was quite awhile until another question was fielded. "Are you and Miss Weasley dating?"

Draco laughed, but it was his polite laugh, not that anyone would be able to tell the difference. "Miss Ginevra Weasley has graciously agreed to be my business manager," he explained to the crowd.

"So you're single?" a reporter for Witch Weekly yelled out.

"That is correct," said Draco, not expanding any further. Another buzz went around the room.

"Any potentials you are considering?" the same witch asked.

"My personal life will stay personal," said Draco. "Now if there are no more questions?"

"Just one, Mr. Malfoy. What caused you to come back to England?"

Draco smiled. "I just felt it was time to come home."

----------------------------------------

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, how are you?"

"Quite well, Minister," said Draco, shaking Lupin's hand. "I trust you've kept up with Ginevra."

"Not as closely as I would have liked, but I do see her every now and then. How are you Ginny?"

"I'm doing well, sir. How is Tonks?"

"As clumsy as ever," said Lupin smiling. "Do have a seat, will you?"

Draco sat in the plush armchair, Ginny in the chair beside him and Lupin on the couch.

"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Malfoy."

"It's Draco. You were my teacher after all, it's a little odd for you to say Mr. Malfoy."

Lupin smiled. "All right, Draco. As you most likely know I was elected Minister half a year ago, and I was handed many unfinished projects, one of them being a museum documenting the reign and fall of Voldemort. Right now, the only thing completed on it is a whole storage of artifacts in one of the wings of the Department of Mysteries."

"And you want me to help," said Draco.

"I want you to sponsor it. The Ministry will reimburse you with the funds made from ticket sales, and your name goes on a plaque outside the door. Maybe even a statue, if you would like it."

"A statue, huh?" said Draco. "Sounds like something Lucius would do, I'll take the plaque."

"So you accept?"

"I'll take it. I suppose I'll have to run every little thing by the Ministry though."

"How about this, you come up with a plan for the museum, building design, exhibit display, and whatever else you think is needed, and I'll have it approved all at once."

"Sounds good, though I won't have the schematics for a while yet."

"This project has been on the shelf for nearly three years. A few months won't make a difference. I'll have the lists of the artifacts we have sent over to your office."

"Thank you, Minister."

"No, thank you, Draco. I watched your press conference and I think what you are doing takes a lot of courage and risk on your part. I think you came back at just the right moment. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," said Draco genuinely pleased. "I think I came back at the right moment as well."

They shook hands all around and then Ginny and Draco flooed back to the office. He spent the next hour getting more done on the budget, and then he and Ginny left for the conference with the CEO of Bere.

The CEO was a short, skinny man in his late fifties who went by the name Reginald Corming. He was a nervous man, but a shrewd business tycoon so Draco told him right off that he wanted to merge Bere and AllChemists.

"I see. And why do you think this is beneficial?"

"Well, sir, frankly your business won't last against mine. Mine is newer, more in tune with what people want and need now, instead of ten years from now. Your potion development focuses on miracles that may occur in the distant future, mine deal with minor breakthroughs that happen every week. In the long run, my company will be more successful, because people want instant gratification. However, I believe that miracles in the future are also important. Together our company could cover both the achievable now and the achievable many years from now."

He held his breath as the man thought over his words.

"I hated your father," said Corming finally. "But I like you. You have yourself a merger."

"Grand," said Draco. "Now, if you don't mind I should like to watch your Potions experts in action."

"If you must," said Corming. "I'll take you myself."

He lead them down the hall away form his office and then down four flights of stairs into the basement. Draco could hear them before he could see them.

"Watch what you are doing, stupid girl!"

"Are you mad trying to put the blood root in? Its acidic properties will cancel out the base of the dragon's blood and it will explode on contact with the basilisk venom!"

"I am the Potions Master here-,"

"As am I-,"

"Then you should realize what I am doing."

"You are going to blow this place to high hell!"

"Get your temper under control. You are so much like that red-headed git you are constantly snogging."

"We're married, for Merlin's Sake!"

"And that makes everything better." That was said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Draco rounded the bend to see the Gryffindor know it all huff angrily in his godfather's direction. Snape was at the cutting board and Hermione was stirring the cauldron glaring at their former Professor. They both looked up when he came into the elaborate lab.

"Ginny!" cried Hermione. "What are you doing-Malfoy? What are you doing back? I thought you were in the States."

"Ms. Weasley, Mr. Snape," said Corming formally, "I would like to introduce you to your new boss, Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Draco noticed many things simultaneously. Corming introduced Granger as Ms. Weasley, meaning she and the Weasel had gotten married, also, her stomach was bulging under her robes, bespeaking of a child on the way. Second, Snape was looking surprisingly well; the years without war had been kind to him. He was no longer quite as skinny, his hair was not as greasy, and his skin not so disgustingly sallow. Third was that Corming had said he was the new boss.

"What?" asked Gra-Weasley. He frowned in his head; there were too many Weasleys. He would have to think of her as Hermione.

"Not really," said Draco. "I'm merging with Bere, so I'm not really your boss."

"Of course you are," said Corming. "I'm retiring. I've been waiting years for some one to come along and take this company off of my hands. Bere is yours; I quit." And with that he walked out of the room leaving Draco staring after him.

"Oh, this company is going to go far," came Snape's droll voice. "Look at our new boss, staring stupidly at the door."

Draco turned to him. "And it's good to see you too, Sev."

"It took you long enough to come back," said Severus. "I thought you just said that you were away on business."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that."

Sev frowned at him, but then Hermione spoke up.

"So, Ginny, what are you doing here? I thought you were in France?"

"I was, but now I work for Malfoy. I'm his business manager."

"Oh," said Hermione.

"Did you here about Harry?" asked Ginny. "He's Seeker for the Chudley Canons."

"Fascinating," said Snape, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Now, if you don't mind Granger, we were on the verge of a breakthrough."

"For the sixth hundredth time, it's Weasley now, and you can't add the blood root because of the venom and dragon's blood."

"I guess we'll find out then," said Snape, picking up a handful of the white, shredded roots and striding forward. To Draco's surprise, Hermione stepped back even though she had been protesting violently.

"Five galleons it explodes," she said.

"I accept," said Snape, and he tossed the root in. There was a flash of fire on top of the liquid, but it was gone as soon as it had come leaving a trail of smoke and the liquid a bright blue. "And that is why I am the top Potions Master," said Snape.

"I-what,… How did you do that?" demanded Hermione.

"The powdered moonstone we added yesterday," said Sev smugly.

"But how did you know it would counteract the venom."

"Something I discovered when I was in Hogwarts. I didn't remember it until now."

Hermione sighed. "Well, now I'm going home. Too much excitement for the pregnant lady."

"I told you to take the next month off," said Snape. "Merlin knows I can't deal with temperamental witches with fluctuating hormones."

"Which is why you will remain a bachelor for the rest of your life," chided Hermione, washing her hands.

"That is something I can live with, and I don't want to see you back here until you're a good deal skinnier," he snapped, but Draco couldn't help but notice that the usual bite to his voice was suspiciously missing.

"I'll tell Zak that you said 'hi' and that you'll still be coming over for dinners on Tuesday."

"Whose Zak?" asked Draco, noticing how Sev's eyes brightened at the name.

"Zakir is my son," said Hermione. "Severus' godson."

Draco felt a sudden pang of jealousy. Sev was _his_ godfather, no one elses, but he schooled his expression into one of masked surprise and amusement.

"Got another one, do you, Sev?" he asked lightly.

"Another one?" asked Hermione, getting her coat.

"Draco is my godson, as well," said Snape.

"Oh," said Hermione, looking form Draco to Severus. "I'm sorry," she told Draco. "If I had known I would have asked to see if you minded. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Draco reassured her. "I always wanted a brother and I s'pose I have one now."

"Zak would love an older brother," said Hermione. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"It's fine," said Draco again.

"Oh good," said Hermione, looking relieved. "We'll have to have you over for family dinners sometime. We have them the first and third Tuesday of every month from six to ten at the Burrow. Are Tuesdays good for you?"

"I don't really know. I'm pretty busy," said Draco.

"Well, if you ever are free then, you should come over. I'm sorry to run like this, but I really should get home. I've been so caught up in this project that I've been neglecting my family. Ginny, do you suppose you can help me up the stairs? We really need an elevator down here."

"Of course," said Ginny. The two women moved off rather slowly to accommodate Hermione's additional weight and Sev put down the ladle he was using to stir the potion.

"Come over here, Draco," said Sev, leading the way into a room off the side of the lab. Draco followed obediently and stepped into Sev's office. It was obviously Sev's office because it was exactly like the one he had in Hogwarts, complete with the furniture and everything. Draco smiled and immediately went to his favorite spot, Sev in the armchair across from him.

"You look good, Sev," said Draco, studying his godfather now that he was up close. He saw that there was not one grey hair amidst the black ones. No doubt Sev would be one of the few whose hair would never change even when they grew older.

"So do you, Draco. I suppose there is a good reason to why you spent the last six years over seas?"

"Not really," Draco admitted.

"Is there a good reason to why you barely kept in touch with me?"

Draco shifted. "No," he said.

Sev raised his eyebrow. "Not even going to try to defend yourself, Draco?"

"No," said Draco again. "I already got reamed out, by Potter none-the-less."

"Really," said Severus, a cooler note in his voice. Draco winced; he knew what Sev was thinking; it was what he would be thinking if their places were switched.

"It was business," he said, then winced again. That didn't make it sound any better. He swore in his head. Sometimes he hated being a Slytherin and a Malfoy, it made these things so hard to say because not only would it mean apologizing, but it would also mean admitting a weakness. But then again he had pretty much destroyed the father-son bond between them, and it was his responsibility to fix it.

"I'm sorry," he said, not able to look at Sev, but instead staring at his shoes. "I should have come to see you first when I came back, and I should have written more. I just wanted to forget about everything that happened over here, and that was unfair to you. I was planning on seeing you first thing, but then I found out that there was going to be a press conference today and so I needed to get everything ready for that, and that meant getting Ginny to be my manager and getting Harry to be my Seeker for my team-,"

"What team?" asked Sev, interrupting.

"The Canons," said Draco.

"You can't own the Canons, they're a national team."

"I'm the only one sponsoring them," explained Draco. "So, I decided to get everything done and see you today, but it's not that I think you're less important than my work, it's just that, well, I figured you wouldn't be in the best of tempers with me because I've been a prat and all by not writing and what not, so I decided to see you today, when I would offer the merger so that you couldn't be too angry with me because I could have you fired." The last was an attempt at humor; it failed.

Sev was silent and after a few tense moments Draco looked up to see his godfather smiling very slightly.

"You are a prat, but you are still my godson. And I like you better than any cross between a Weasley and Granger any day."

Draco smirked. "The boy is bound to be a Gryffindor through and through."

"And no doubt he will be a bane of my existence," said Sev, though his expression lightened in fondness.

"Why did you end up being his godfather in the first place?" asked Draco. "I didn't think you would be their first choice. Was Potter unavailable?"

"There was a complication with their first child, and then things worsened when Granger was pregnant with Zakir. They both nearly died, a potion I had created saved their lives."

"Which explains the name," said Draco. Zakir meant grateful. He looked at Sev. "They have another kid?"

"Potter is the godfather for their eldest. Her name is Melody and she's best friends with the Zabini's girl. They go to the family dinners as well."

"Blaise and Pansy?" Draco asked astounded. "Family dinners with the Weasleys?"

"It's not really family dinners. More of friends and family. It's quite a party," said Sev.

"And you go to these things?" Draco was shocked.

"Sometimes," said Sev. "If I don't Granger will hound me all day and as we are lab partners…" he trailed off.

"However did you get paired with her?" Draco asked.

"She was the only one that didn't run away crying," said his godfather, smirking slightly.

Draco smirked as well; he could just picture Sev terrorizing all of his lab partners.

Ginny entered then. "Well, the pregnant lady has successfully reached home. Hey, this is exactly like your office at school!"

"And how would you know that?" asked Snape.

Ginny grinned sheepishly. "Do you remember that horrid DADA professor we had in my seventh year, and how he wouldn't let us practice the spells or use correcting solution on papers and how he gave us detention if we spoke up in class or didn't take satisfactory notes? Well, he happened to spill several secrets to a certain group of irate seventh years, although he may have told his deepest secrets under duress."

"What did you do?" asked Draco.

"Truth potion, easier than Veritaserum and it works on those who can't fight the Imperius. Turns out he had relationships with under aged witches in his last job, and we effectively blackmailed him, and then turned him over to authorities at the end of the year."

Draco looked at her with a new sense of respect. "So you snuck into Snape's office and lab and made the potion."

"Yup," said Ginny, extremely proud of herself. "And we should probably head out now, Mr. Malfoy. You have a phone call in ten minutes."

He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was so late.

"Until later then," said Sev, standing.

Draco stood as well and they shook hands then embraced very briefly.

"I'll see you sometime soon," said Draco.

"You'd better," said Sev.

Draco and Ginny left by Floo, which was a good thing because the call came in early.

"This is Malfoy?" asked the voice.

"Yes, it is," said Draco.

"Well, this is Clancy." The voice was brisk and rude. "What's this about Quidditch teams? Which one do you own?"

"The Chudley Canons," said Draco.

"You can't own them. They're a national team."

Draco suppressed a sigh. It had been a long day. "I know. However, I am the only sponsor so…"

--------------------

Sorry it took me so long to update, but it was parent visitation last weekend and then I had all sorts of exams, in fact I have one tomorrow at eight, well actually today at eight, because its tomorrow already (two am!)(wait, now it's two-thirty) and I really should study, but I haven't been. Ooops. So I'm going to load this up and then drink my caffeinated beverage and study. So make my soon-to-be-bad day better, and review! Lol!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would take a nap in a four poster bed with silk sheets and satin pillows. Every day. For the rest of my life.

DCod: Thanks. I'm glad you like Draco, I'm trying to make him as real as possible, and that means he definitely has a prat side

Zippy Zany: I'm glad you like the future stuff, it's a little harder to write, but fun to see where the characters have gotten

-----------------------------------------

"Shells, where the hell is that update from MagicTec?" Draco yelled out the door of his office for the fiftieth time.

"It hasn't come in yet!" Shelia shouted from her desk. "How many times do I have to tell you that? Was your coffee decaf today?"

"Well, I wouldn't know, now would I?" Draco snapped back, his angry voice carrying across the entire third floor. "You're the one who bloody made it!"

"You can shut your friggin' trap because it's not my fault that the update isn't here yet!"

"Get on the damn phone and get it then!"

"I have! I've been on the phone for the past hour and they keep telling me they haven't finalized the list of employees yet! I can't make them go any faster."

"Tell them they're all fired if it takes another nano-second. They promised me that list an hour and a half ago!"

"It takes time to pull together an entire company from scratch!"

"That's why I hired them. They said they could do it!"

"You know what Malfoy? Take a chill pill and shut the hell up!"

Draco dropped the papers he was going over for the AllChemist employee list and stalked over to the door.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice going icy cold. Immediately the floor went quiet and heads popped out of offices and above cubicle walls to watch the impending death of a certain American hippy.

Shelia gave him a look, walked over to him, and shoved him back in his office. She shut the door behind them, closed the blinds, and cast a silencing charm.

"I said to shut the hell up and take a chill pill. These things sometimes run over and there is nothing you can do about it. I love you like a little brother Malfoy, just stop being so anal for Merlin's sake. Here," she stalked over to his desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. He caught the squishy stress ball she threw at him. "Take your anger out on that instead of us."

He watched her stalk out of the office and slam the door behind her. He hurled the foam sphere at the wall and slumped into his desk chair tugging at his hair. It was Tuesday, the week after his press conference and everything was happening at once. New Foundations was officially up and running, AllChemists had their employee list finalized and would start up tomorrow and MagicTec was running insanely behind schedule. Bere had been officially transferred into his possession and somehow the press had gotten word that he was designing the museum the Ministry had abandoned. Now rumors were spreading that he was trying to create a monopoly of the entire wizarding business in England. And it appeared that he should have come back a week sooner, because suddenly smaller, privately owned businesses were failing across the country. Knowing that if he had invested in them straight out the rumors of his economic domination would only be strengthened; he had anonymously invested large amounts in several different sole proprietorships under the name Maddox, but even after that things did not look good. He groaned in frustration, spinning himself around violently in the chair.

There was a knock on the door and he stopped his spinning and glared. The door opened without his permission.

"We need to talk," said Ginny.

Draco was seriously tempted to bang his head repeatedly on his desk and call it a day, go home, and drown himself in a bottle of Firewhiskey. Instead he waved her in and tried to affix a pleasant, welcoming expression on his face. He gave it up as a waste of effort, but did tame his expression from irate to mild annoyance.

"What about?" he asked.

Ginny plopped a stack of papers on his desk. "This company is headed for financial ruin," she said.

"What company?" asked Draco.

"_This_ company," said Ginny, gesturing around at the four walls. "I've worked over the projections a hundred times. You can't just start up a bunch of companies and start manufacturing products when there isn't any market for the products. Look, this AllChemist line. You're making a full line of beauty and health care products, when people are scraping by to just go to the medi-witches! MagicTec is completely too expensive for any other business to afford, and you are the only person that will be needing any new buildings to be built. You can't sustain your entire businesses with more businesses."

Draco smirked. "I'm a Malfoy, Ginevra. I know all of this, which is why the challenge is to get people to buy the products."

"And how do you propose that?"

Draco couldn't help the smug look that crossed his face; he really was a financial genius. He leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers behind his head. "Depressions begin due to inflation. Usually it follows a period of economic prosperity where jobs are good, the pay is good, and society is on a high note. People don't really mind paying more and companies looking to increase their profits jack up the prices. Then prices increase again and again, and because people are still buying things, the prices continue rising unchecked. That's when the problems start. People stop buying things after realizing that they don't have that much money to spend, and then companies get this whole back load of unsold merchandise and end up taking a major loss of profits. The companies don't realize that this is a permanent condition and so they fire a few people and continue making more of their product. Since people still can't buy anything, companies cut more employees. Now these people go looking for more jobs, but most companies are in trouble and firing people, and when people are out of a job, there is no one to buy products from the failing companies. Pretty soon, entire businesses have collapsed leaving even more people without a source of income and that is how depression begins.

"The biggest problem with depression is that people become too afraid to spend any unnecessary money, with good reason of course, because so many people lost their jobs and they were forced to save every penny. However, this makes it difficult for the economy to recover because the economy needs money in circulation, so the idea is to force the people to get used to spending money again. Along with paying my employees, they are also receiving special employee pricing on products manufactured by my businesses. The first month they have 75 off anything, the second month is 50, the next 25. They will start out buying just what they need, but that will help the economy pick up again, and when things are being bought, then my companies flourish so I can give them slight pay raises. Nothing big or else the whole inflation thing will happen again, but enough so that they associate spending with good things."

Ginny stared at him. "You do realize how much money you are going to be losing, don't you?"

Draco shrugged; it was a small price to pay for the country his father had helped destroy. He figured he owed it to England and her people; besides, if this worked he would gain it all back again.

"Why are you doing this?" Ginny asked suddenly, suspicion in her voice. "This isn't completely altruistic, is it?"

Draco scowled, his good mood suddenly gone. "No," he said bitingly, practically spitting the words out. "I'm doing it because I have an inferiority complex and I can't help but compare myself to Potter, and because he saved the wizarding world, I have to save the economy so that he doesn't get all of the fame, fortune and glory. And this way when the economy does pick up, I'll be the most powerful man there is. There, is that Slytherin enough for you?"

"I didn't mean," Ginny started, blushing slightly.

"Of course you did," said Draco. "Now get back to work before I fire you."

Ginny stared at him, her expression going from apologetic, to surprise, to outrage, to anger, while his face remained in its cold mask.

"Very well then, Mr. Malfoy," she said, her eyes flashing. She whirled around and strode towards the door. "Oh," she said turning, "Hermione wanted to invite you to dinner tonight at the Burrow for a family get together, but I un-invite you!" She left, slamming the door behind her.

Draco slumped onto his desk and banged his head repeatedly on the polished wood surface. He was a grade-A idiot, not to mention a complete jerk. He sighed and then pulled himself together; he still had work to do.

He didn't see Ginny for the rest of the day, though he did make up with Shelia who came in two hours later with the employee list for MagicTec. He spent the rest of the day checking the list over and adding families to the list of houses to be built. New Foundations had already started building the first houses. They were nothing special, and they were all completely identical and in a little neighborhood that was entirely too pleasant, but he figured families living for so long in one room apartments in the inner city that was covered in filth and smelled of disease would love the change. Maybe he should hire out landscapers to put little gardens in the front. That was an idea. He could have the families write in saying what flowers they liked and he could have the landscapers put it in, that way the houses would be more personalized and he would be making business for other companies. He called Shells in and had her start calling up garden shops.

Ginny's words then came into mind, something about people scraping by just to go to the medi-witches. He wondered if there was an insurance policy he could put together for his employees. He played around with the idea for a while before discarding it. He would set up a system of loans for emergencies, but he would let people choose and pay for their own doctors. He didn't want to favor any one physician, and this way he couldn't be accused of taking over the medical business as well. He spent the rest of the day drawing up plans for loans and then made more plans for a charity ball he would be hosting in a few days. He didn't leave until eight o'clock when he was sure Ginny was gone. He didn't think he could take apologizing to her along with the rest of the stress of that day.

He Flooed home hoping Blaise would be available for a chat over a glass of Firewhiskey, maybe even over an entire bottle. It was suspiciously silent when he stepped out of the fireplace in the hall though. He found a solitary plate of dinner being kept warm for him at the table in the dining room and Rolly was immediately by his side.

"Where's Mr. and Mrs. Zabini, Rolly?" Draco asked, giving his things to the house elf.

"They are going to a party of family, sir. At a place called the Burrow, sir."

Oh, yes. He had forgotten that they were 'family' with the Weasleys. He sighed and sat down at his place at the head of the table.

He was used to being alone in the mansion. When he was younger Lucius had always been away on business or with the Dark Lord or in Azkaban and Narcissa had always been at social events or locked in her rooms because she was 'tired'. He had been lonely at first, but then he realized that being alone was much preferable to having them with him. Narcissa would ignore him and Lucius was constantly grilling him on spells and demanding to know why his pureblood son couldn't beat Granger at studies or Potter at Quidditch.

Draco remembered once when he was fourteen saying that if a mudblood kept beating him in grades, then maybe purebloods weren't better. The punishment had been swift and severe and then Draco was locked in his room for the next month until school started so he could study and prove that he wasn't a worthless piece of shit.

Because Draco had learned not to mind the quiet since when he was eight, he was surprised to find that he felt strangely empty inside sitting at the large table all alone, and the thought of his friends at a party where everyone was family and were no doubt laughing and celebrating together, made his gut give a twist of jealousy, and was that loneliness? He pushed the thought from his mind and turned to his dinner but after a few minutes of rearranging the food on his plate he decided he wasn't hungry.

"Rolly," he commanded.

"Yes, sir?" asked the elf appearing with a sharp crack by his side.

"Get my things, I will be going back to the office."

"Master is not hungry?" asked the elf with wide eyes.

"No, and tell Mr. and Mrs. Zabini not to wait up for me when they get back, alright?"

"Yes, Master." The elf disappeared, then reappeared with Draco's briefcase and coat.

"Thank you, Rolly. You can go now."

The elf disappeared again and Draco Flooed back to his office. He put his entire attention to settling more finances and balancing the budget again. He forced himself to stay awake until he had finished, and then he didn't bother going home, but pillowed his head on his arms and let exhaustion claim him.

---------------------------------------

"For Merlin's sake, Draco," came the exasperated voice of Shelia. "You've been here a week and you're already falling back to your old habits. Come on, wake up."

Draco groaned and tried to bury his head under his arms to shut out the light.

"Old habits?" asked a new voice. Draco lazily tried to place the voice as his brain sluggishly woke up.

"Back in the States I'd find him sleeping in his office at least six times a month," said Shelia. "Usually one right after the other. Here, Malfoy, coffee."

A mug clunked down on his desk and the smell drifted tantalizingly over him. Without opening his eyes he reached for it, but Shelia pulled it away.

"Oh, no you don't. Pick your head up and open your eyes."

"I hate you," Draco muttered, voice muffled by his arms.

"What time did you fall asleep?"

"Three," said Draco, opening his eyes and blinking against the light.

"Three what?" asked Shelia, not fooled at all.

"Three fifty," said Draco, now picking his head up and staring around the room blearily, noticing Ginny, and then Shelia, and then the mug in his secretaries grasp. "Coffee," he said reaching out his hand.

"Come over here and get it," said Shelia.

"You're fired."

"You're no fun," said Shelia, handing him the mug.

Draco drained half of the cup, not minding that it scalded his mouth. He rubbed a hand over his face and caught sight of Ginny watching him. She blushed and looked away; Draco turned to Shelia.

"What do we have today?"

"I don't know. Ginny hasn't given me the list yet."

Draco turned to Ginny. "Well?"

"Press conference at two, inspection of Allchemists at three, phone conference with the Law Offices at four, phone conference overseas at five, and a dinner meeting with the President of Winstin and Co at seven. They're the company that relocated to Italy. Oh, and you need to finalize the charity ball plans by this afternoon so I can send out invitations."

Draco nodded, stifled a yawn, and took a gulp of coffee.

"You should probably go home and shower first," said Shelia.

"Probably," Draco agreed. "After I finish my coffee."

"You had better be back here at nine at the latest," said Shelia.

"Who's the boss here?" asked Draco.

Shelia only smiled and walked out of the office, Ginny went to follow her.

"Wait, Ginevra," called Draco awkwardly.

She stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"I'm-I'm sorry for snapping at you the other day. I know you didn't mean anything by it, and I over reacted," said Draco. He really should be used to apologizing by now, but the words were still hard to say.

"I'm sorry, too," said Ginny. "I shouldn't have asked why you were doing this. So what do you say we attribute it to a stressful day and not fret about it?"

"Sounds good," said Draco.

"Good," said Ginny. "I'll let you go home now, your hair is all sticking up like-,"

"Like a porcupine," said Draco, his lips twitching. "Yes, I remember."

Ginny looked surprised that he did, but she smiled and left. Draco finished his coffee and Flooed back to his house. He could hear voices in the dining room and could smell waffles, eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, and fruit. His stomach clenched, reminding him that he hadn't eaten dinner the other day and he decided to eat breakfast first, then shower.

Blaise looked up when he came in. "Merlin, Drake, you look like hell."

"Ooooo," said Lida. "Daddy swore!"

Pansy gave Blaise a reproachful look and Blaise grinned bashfully.

"When did you come home last night?" asked Pansy as Draco slid into a chair and helped himself to eggs and toast. She was holding Amandine and giving her a bottle while Dragon was in a booster seat finger painting his waffle with cream and strawberries.

"Came home around eight for dinner, then realized there was stuff I forgot to do at the office, so I went back and fell asleep there." Draco glanced up from his food to see Blaise and Pansy exchange a look. "What?" he asked, almost forgetting his manners and shoving food in his mouth despite the fact that he was talking. He was really hungry.

"Did you even eat dinner last night?" asked Blaise, catching the almost slip.

"Yes, mother," said Draco, scowling.

"So if I asked Rolly, he would say that you ate dinner?" Blaise continued undaunted.

Draco opened his mouth to retort in the affirmative, but then he realized Blaise _would_ call Rolly in and he hadn't eaten dinner last night, so he contented himself with a glare.

"You need a wife," said Pansy, shaking her head at him.

"I have two," said Draco, looking at his friends accusingly. They didn't even have the grace to blush, but both grinned cheekily at him.

"So I here you got in a row with Ginny," said Pansy.

"We did not get in a row," said Draco. "We had a disagreement."

"A disagreement, was it?" asked Pansy smiling at him in a way that said she didn't believe him for one second.

Draco was about to respond when Blaise interrupted him. "Let him eat, Pans. Poor man's starving."

Draco shot Blaise a grateful look and continued his meal listening to Lida's pleasant chatter and Blaise and Pansy's responses. Dragon did not say a word, but Draco had a feeling that he understood everything that was going on.

"He doesn't talk, does he?" he asked Pansy.

"He hasn't said a word," Pansy admitted, though her voice was tinged with worry as she turned her focus on her only son. "The medi-witches say that nothing is wrong with his intelligence and that he'll speak when he is ready, but that was three months ago, and they thought he would be talking by now."

Dragon looked up at his mother and smiled, then shoved a cream smeared strawberry into his mouth with clumsy toddler fingers.

"I say he's fine," said Blaise. "I didn't talk until I was one and a half."

"Yes, but at least you made noises," said Pansy. "Lida was talking at ten months, saying 'momma' and 'dada' and 'no'."

"I could have a speech therapist sent over if you like," said Draco.

"Already tried," said Pansy, looking defeated. Dragon returned to playing paint with his food, mashing the waffle now and then, but completely silent. He then picked up the plate and sat it on his head upside down so that waffle, cream, and strawberries smushed in his hair. He smiled winningly at the three adults who couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

After breakfast Draco took a quick shower and changed into fresh dress robes then went back to work. Finalizing the plans for the charity ball took no time at all; he knew what he wanted and who he was inviting. And it was a good thing he had it finished before the press conference because that was all they seemed to want to talk about.

"Who exactly are you inviting to the ball, Mr. Malfoy?" asked one.

"My guests will be mostly those wizards who moved out of England to protect their family fortunes, but I will also be inviting those who have stayed and still managed to keep their companies in business."

"Where are the benefits of this event going?"

"The benefits will go straight to the Children's Home, Lovegood's Boarding House for the Homeless, and Neighbor to Neighbor Soup Kitchens."

"What do you have to say in response to those who claim you are trying to create a monopoly of wizarding businesses?"

"That is not my intention. My goal is to provide the average wizarding family with a steady job, with a good home environment, and enough money to treat the kids to ice cream."

His words were plastered all over the Daily Prophet on the five o'clock edition. It seems the press had just figured out that he was there to stay, and there to make a difference and were now taking supreme interest in him. He read the paper after his phone calls. 'Is Malfoy's goal really as innocent as ice cream?' one head line read. The other was 'How the Malfoy Heir will Save England and What that Means for You'.

His name also appeared in magazines from Quidditch World to the Quibbler. Draco couldn't help but laugh at the article in Witch Weekly Linda had sent up for him to read. It featured a picture of Harry Potter on the left in front of a white background and his picture on the right in front of a black background. The magazine read 'Harry or Draco: Which Hero Are You Most Compatible With, the Light, Courageous and Fun-Loving Potter, or the Dark, Mysterious, Genius Malfoy?'

He skimmed the article and decided to leave for the dinner meeting when a round of laughter from the break room caught his attention and he headed over to see what was going on. Shelia, Linda, and Ginny were sitting at the table with mugs of tea and what looked like a magazine in front of them; Ginny was covering her face in her hands while Shelia drank her tea and Linda added a set of numbers. Draco frowned as he lounged in the doorway unnoticed. Was that-?

"Okay," said Linda. "I am a Potter girl, Shelia is a Potter girl, and Ginny, let's just say that I am shocked."

Ginny pulled her hands away from her face as her cheeks turned even redder. "What is it?" she asked bracing herself.

"A score of twenty-eight, which makes you very much a…drum roll please." Shelia drummed on the table with her hands, building in intensity until Linda shouted "Malfoy girl!"

"What?" Ginny yelled, lunging for the magazine and tearing it from Linda's hand. Draco could practically see her adding up the numbers in her head. "Malfoy?" she asked, incredulously.

"Yes?" asked Draco from the door.

The three witches whipped around and blushed when they saw him in the doorway. That is to say, Linda and Shelia blushed, Ginny turned bright scarlet and dropped the magazine.

"How long have you been standing there?" demanded Shelia.

"Just now," said Draco, lying easily. He frowned. "Should I have been here sooner?"

"No!" Linda burst out. "I mean, no, just girl talk," she tried to cover.

Draco narrowed his eyes in fake suspicion. "Then what's that?" he asked, taking a step towards the magazine.

Linda grabbed it and held it to her chest.

"Girl stuff, Malfoy," said Shelia firmly. "Don't you have a meeting to attend?" She got up and pushed him out of the room.

"Alright, alright, I'm going," said Draco. "Oh, and Ginny?"

The witch with the red cheeks looked up at him. "Yes?"

He smirked. "There's nothing wrong with being a Malfoy girl. It means you've got class." He turned his back on her mortified expression and let the grin slide across his face as he left the building. He was an evil bastard, he knew it. But it was so much fun.

----------------------------------

Well, like it? Hate it? Let me know. I promise that I will write a family dinner chapter, but not for a while yet. So til then, review!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would buy a new pair of shoes. Every day. For the rest of my life.

Thanks to Whizzabee: I'm glad you liked the chapter, here's more

And to DCoD: Your reviews mean a lot to me, you always write the right thing thanks

And to cyodrake: thanks for the reviews, could u let me know what mistakes I made so I can edit them? thanks

-----------------------------------

Saturday afternoon and Draco was at home. A very rare occurrence as usually he was at the office, but his charity ball was that evening and Shelia had kicked him out at two to get ready. Draco didn't get it; all he had to do was shower, throw on his dress clothes, brush his hair, spray some cologne and he was ready. But Pansy obviously understood because as soon as he was home, she had Flooed over to Ginny's so that the girls could get ready together. Blaise had pretended to be offended.

"_You're not going to help me get ready?" he asked, eyeing his wife's many bags._

"_Dear, you know how to put on a robe," said Pansy, giving him a kiss good-bye but then turned it into something completely more passionate._

"_Not in front of me!" Draco protested._

"_Sorry," said Pansy._

"_So tell me again, why are you going over to Ginny's to get ready?" Blaise asked._

"_For moral support," said Pansy. "As women, this social event is not just about raising money for charities."_

"_It's not for men either," Blaise said._

"_For men it is a complete show of business success and a whole bunch of macho posturing. Who has the youngest wife, who has the most money, who has the better press power, and all of that," said Pansy. "For us women who were not married for our looks or who are part of the workforce, it is about surviving among women who are peacocks on the outside, but are like vultures on the inside, picking apart your outfit, your hair, your skin and your make-up, all while making these snide little comments that tear you apart because they know that they are completely gorgeous. I mean, they have to be because it is the only reason they are picked up by rich men. So I am going to Ginny's for moral support."_

"_Anyone would have married you for your looks," said Blaise, pulling Pansy close. "But I fell in love with **all** of you, and I am the luckiest man in the world."_

_They kissed again, but Pansy broke it off mindful of their best friend in the room as well._

"_Draco, do me a favor," said Pansy. _

"_Anything," said Draco. _

"_Pay attention to Ginny tonight."_

"_I will," Draco promised and with that, Pansy stepped into the fireplace._

And that was why he was now working at his home office as he still had four hours before the ball. Blaise had taken a quick trip to his own office in Italy to fix a minor situation that had come up, and the children were being babysat by the house elves. Well, he wasn't really working; he was waiting for a reply from Higgins before he could finalize any plans.

The door opened and Draco sighed, not feeling like talking at the moment, but then a tiny figure appeared and Draco relaxed. It was just Dragon. The little boy stepped into the room, taking in the study from underneath shaggy dark bangs. He finally fastened brown eyes on Draco and he broke into a smile, holding up a book.

"You want me to read it to you?" Draco asked, pushing his chair back a little from his desk. Dragon took that as an invitation and trotted over and then clamored up onto his lap. Draco froze, not knowing what to do with the toddler who was now plopping his book on top of his work papers and flipping it open.

"A book about dragons, huh?" asked Draco, and began to read the page. "Dragons are a magical creature-," He stopped when Dragon twisted around and placed a hand on his lips, his meaning quite clear.

"Sorry," said Draco.

The boy shifted to get comfortable, and suddenly Draco was uncomfortable. He had never taken care of a little child before and he didn't know the first thing about it.

"Here," said Draco, lifting the child up, who was still holding onto the book, and depositing him on the large armchair in the office. Dragon looked at him with reproach in his eyes. Draco sighed but picked him up again, sat in the chair, and then set the boy on his lap. The toddler shifted over so that he was wedged in the space between Draco and the armrest, leaned up against Draco's side and place the book in his hands. Draco rolled his eyes, but then balanced the book on his knees, encircling his arm around the boy and opening the book. Dragon snuggled closer as the two studied the pictures of the creatures together. Now and then Draco turned the page, but besides the rub of paper against paper, the room was silent.

Gradually, Draco realized that the boy had fallen asleep and he looked down at the child tucked into his side with a faint smile. He put the book down and sat for a minute trying to figure out what to do. He must have moved slightly because Dragon gave a tiny jerk in his sleep. Draco sighed, but the sigh turned into a yawn; he was tired. He decided to wait there until the owl came from Higgins.

He didn't realize he was asleep until Blaise's laughter woke him up.

"Simply adorable," said his friend as Draco struggled to consciousness.

Draco checked his watch. "You're home early," he said.

"Customs was fast," said Blaise. "But we should probably get started primping and all that. Here, I'll take the kiddo."

Blaise reached out and, with expert form, picked up the toddler so that the child didn't even stir. Draco watched as Blaise gently stroked the hair away from the child's face and rocked him. His friend's face was a study of tenderness and love as he looked at his son.

"You're a good father, Blaise," said Draco.

Blaise looked up at him. "I can't imagine trying to be anything else. I look at them and I want to be the very best I can because they deserve so much."

Draco nodded. "Well, I'm going to go shower," he said. "I've got drool all over me." It was only a small wet spot on his shirt but he wasn't one to get introspective, at least not with people present. He walked to the door, but then turned when Blaise spoke up.

"I think you'd make a good father too, Drake."

Draco smiled coldly. "I'd rather not find out. There's that whole 'apple doesn't fall far from the tree' analogy."

"It's bullshit," said Blaise. "You are so different from your father; you just can't see it. Look at Dragon, he came into your office, didn't he?"

"So?"

"He wasn't invited in," said Blaise, his voice full of meaning.

Draco's eyes widen slightly. He remembered coming uninvited into the very same office when he was little when it had belonged to Lucius. His father had dragged him out by a hand wrapped around his neck and then set him in the hallway and punched him, hard, in the face. Draco had fallen down, only to be picked up and flung into the wall with so much force the wind had been knocked out of him. His father had turned around and left him lying there, gouges in his face bleeding from where Lucius' many rings had torn flesh. He was four at the time.

"I- I didn't even," he started.

"I know," said Blaise, stepping forward and clasping him on the shoulder. "You didn't even think about it. You're a good man, Drake, you're a good man."

Draco saw nothing but sincerity in his friend's eyes and he smiled. "Thanks Blaise."

"No problem. Just who would have thought that the richest wizard in the world would have such insecurity problems?"

Draco glared at his friend, but Blaise brushed past him laughing. Draco shook his head and decided a long, hot shower sounded nice.

At exactly seven o'clock, Draco and Blaise took the portkey to the designated arrival spot outside of Whittling Ballroom. It had rained earlier in the day and so a welcoming red carpet extended from the marble steps to the street where guests were mingling waiting for loved ones to arrive. The press was also there as it would be a publicized event.

Draco was nearly blinded by the flash of cameras as he stepped off of the platform and waved at the reporters, flashing a charming smile at the female ones. He knew he looked good. His silver-blond hair was combed to perfection, shining in the lights and his practiced smile was dazzling enough to be found on an advertisement for Reston's toothpaste. He was wearing black leather shoes, black trousers, and a form-fitting black silk shirt. His dress robes were silver and hanging open for the casual, slightly rebel look that he had invented and caused a lot of heads to turn in his direction.

"D'you see the girls?" he asked Blaise next to him, who was decked out in navy-blue robes that contrasted perfectly with his dark Mediterranean skin and dark curly hair.

"Oh yeah," said Blaise. Draco looked in his line of vision and saw that he was staring at his wife, who was dressed in a simple sheath of gold with navy-blue accents. Draco grinned at his friend and gave him a nudge to get going. If he didn't love Pansy like a sister, he would be drooling as well, because his best friend's wife had a perfect figure, even after three kids, and she was by far one of the most beautiful women he had ever known. Pansy saw them coming, waved, then pulled Ginny over who was standing behind her and Draco stared.

Ginny was dressed in a gown of pale green satin that complimented her creamy skin perfectly. The straps of the dress were off the shoulder and the neckline fashionably plunging. The bodice of the dress was in gathers that clung to her slim frame and the skirt was asymmetrical hitting just above her left knee in the front but mid-calf in the back and it had a ruffle all around the hem. Her hair was up and decorated with small ivory flowers, nestled among the red-orange curls that were threatening to fall cascading down her bare shoulders at any minute.

"There you are," said Pansy, greeting Blaise with a kiss and leaving Draco to Ginny.

"Ginevra," he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. "Simply stunning." He lightly brushed his lips over her hand and saw her blush slightly.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, pulling her hand out of his grasp. "You're looking very well yourself."

"Just 'very well'?" he asked, mock offended.

"I would say more, but with how many women are eyeing you, I know that they are going to pounce as soon as you are by yourself and begin to whisper flattering and sickening compliments in your ears," said Ginny.

Draco stared at her and then laughed. "I take it you are not fond of parties?"

"Oh, I'm fond of parties. It's the people that sometimes get to me," said Ginny.

"Yes, we can be right snots sometimes, can't we?" asked Draco. Ginny laughed and he offered his arm to her as rain began to sprinkle down again. She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and he led her up the marble steps. "I'll give you a few pointers," he said. "The more jewelry a woman is wearing, the more insecure she is. The more make up a woman is wearing, the more likely it is that she is there in order to pick up a rich date for the night. If a man is in a traditional set of robes, it means he is very frugal in what he invests in and it is unlikely that he will put money in anything new. If a man is wearing the latest fashions then he will most likely follow the crowd in investments.

"The only purpose to these charity balls is to mingle with others, which means not letting them get the last veiled insult and sucking up to the right people."

They reached the large double doors which were opened by uniformed ushers and entered in. He heard Ginny's gasp and resisted the urge to smile. The room was large with fine oriental carpeting in blue, gold, and green with large gold and ivory chandeliers hanging form the sculpted ceiling. Round mahogany tables with glass tops were placed in a pleasing pattern about the room holding matching wood candelabras that were obviously charmed to be fire resistant because they held gold, burning candles. There was a raised strip of floor along the right side with a handsome gold covered podium and to the left was a set of French doors leading out to a balcony.

Ginny turned to him. "You didn't give me those tips just to be helpful, did you?" she asked.

Draco looked at her. "Maybe I want to see how you mingle."

She stared at him. "This is some sort of test, isn't it? To see if I can stay afloat during these types of shindigs."

_Smart girl_, Draco thought, but he just smiled at her.

"Mr. Malfoy!" called a voice across the room. "May I have a word with you?"

"If you'll excuse me, Ginevra," he said, giving her a bow and turning to walk away. "Oh, and we're eating dinner at table three," he called over his shoulder. "Don't be late."

Oh, yes. He was a bastard. No one leaves a pretty girl alone at a party, especially when said pretty girl was new to this type of fiesta, and when one had promised one's best friend to look out for her, and when said pretty girl was looking far to gorgeous to concentrate on anything else, but he had his reasons. And he would be damned before he told anyone the specifics.

He did keep an eye out for her though. He was called from person to person, from businessman to reporter and he charmed each and every one of them. He smiled, he joked, he flirted, he spoke passionately and eloquently on why it was important for businesses to move back to England and how it was important that the English wizarding folk not lose hope. And yet through it all he kept his eye on a redhead in a pale green satin dress who was being led about the room by a man in scarlet dress robes.

At promptly eight o'clock, Draco was seated at the table with Blaise and Pansy. Pansy immediately noticed that Ginny was not accompanying him.

"Draco," she questioned. "Where's Ginny?"

"Mingling," said Draco, nonchalantly sipping a glass of wine he had retrieved from a waiter's platter on the way over.

Pansy narrowed her eyes and her lips pursed dangerously. "You said you would pay attention to her."

"She's not some sort of child that needs to be watched constantly or she feels unloved," said Draco exasperated, which meant that his voice went colder than necessary. "She's a grown witch and my business manager, I'm sure she can take care of herself. It's not like she's out parading through Knockturn Alley."

Pansy flushed at his tone of voice and Blaise shot him a dirty look which said quite clearly 'There is no way in hell you talk to my wife that way'. Draco mentally cursed himself, though outwardly his cool mask slipped on. Truth was he had been watching Ginny with some young handsome wizard in a red robe all evening and it irritated the hell out of him. And the fact that it irritated him, irritated him. She was his business manager, so what if she spent an hour with some guy? He had told her to mingle, and she was bloody mingling. He glanced at his watch. Eight oh three. Where the hell was she? His mask grew colder by the second and his eyes went icy as he spotted Ginny being escorted over by Red-Robe Man.

"My apologies," said Ginny lightly, once she had arrived. "I lost track of time completely."

"The fault is all mine," said Red-Robe Man. Draco noted with disgust that the man had curly brown hair and warm, sparkling green eyes. Women loved that whole curly hair bit and he was entirely too warm and sparkling, not to mention young, although he was probably a few years older than Draco. "But," the man continued, "I just had to have a glass of champagne with such a gorgeous woman. " He held up the empty glass as proof; Draco noted Ginny's was only half empty.

"I'm flattered, Mr. Reinhem," said Ginny.

"Please, it's Michael," said Red-Robe Man.

Ginny blushed then quickly made the introductions. "Mr. Rei-Michael," she amended. "This is Mr. Blaise Zabini, his wife Pansy and my boss, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stood and shook his hand.

"Wow, Mr. Malfoy," said the curly haired flirt. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," said Draco, coldly. Part of his mind catalogued the fact that he sounded like Lucius when his voice went frigid. He would have to watch that.

"Ginny was just saying that she really enjoys working at Malfoy Enterprises," Red-Robe Man continued. "She is an amazing woman."

Ginny blushed and Draco had enough.

"Well, _Michael_," he said, formally and with an edge in his voice. He winced inwardly, that was an exact replica of Lucius' voice. "It was nice talking with you."

"As with you, Mr. Malfoy." They shook hands again, and Red-Robe Man began to pull the chair out so that Ginny could sit, but Draco cut him off.

"Allow me," he said. Ginny shot a look at him, but allowed him to pull out the chair for her, and then push it in. "Good day, Mr. Reinhem," he said with a finality in his voice that couldn't be mistaken and Red-Robe Man left.

Ginny glared at him once he sat down.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

"What did I say about swearing?" he countered, not in the mood to talk with his thoughts all a jumble. Part of him wanted to beat the crap out of a certain curly-haired, green eyed man, the other part wanted to know what the hell for, and a small voice was nagging at him, wanting to know if he fancied a certain red-haired business manager.

"You didn't need to be so rude!" she whispered as their other table mates came over to sit down.

"How was I rude?" he whispered back, nodding at the new four.

"You know how you were rude. Don't even try pretending!"

"And I told you to mingle, or does the definition of mingling mean staying in the company of one person?"

"He was introducing me to people!"

"It's the green eyes, isn't it?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"He had green eyes. You usually fall hopelessly in love with men who have green eyes, don't you? First it was Potter, now it's Michael."

"That was a childhood crush, and I didn't even notice his eyes."

"Didn't notice his eyes just like you were mingling," said Draco.

"You are impossible, and I hate you," she hissed.

"Real mature, Ginevra," he responded.

She clenched her teeth; he noticed because her jaw tightened and her lips turned down slightly. Not that he was studying her for a reason or anything. He struck up a conversation with the two couples that had joined them, realizing that he now had his two best friends and his business manager mad at him.

Dinner was delicious, but rather quiet. It is hard to have polite conversation when the people next to you are upset with you. When the plates had been magically cleared, the announcer for the night, a popular host for a radio station, got up and stood behind the podium.

"Excuse me, could I have your attention, please?"

The conversation gradually died down and people turned their eyes to the front of the room.

"Thank you. I hope that you have all had a lovely evening tonight?" There was polite applause. "And I am happy to announce that tonight is far from over." Polite laughter and more polite applause. "And now a word from our host, the recently returned head of Malfoy Enterprises, Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Real applause this time and Draco got up, forcing back all the frustration and locking his emotions away, and jogged up the steps to the podium, giving the crowd a wide smile. These were the people he had to perform for, and by the end of his little speech they had to love him. He was used to this sort of stuff, getting the public to adore him only this time he wasn't acting on his own benefit, but for the benefit of an entire nation. The more the rich audience liked him the more they would be willing to give, and perhaps even start up businesses in England, and Merlin knew that would take a bit of the pressure off of him.

"I would just like to take this time to thank you all for coming to my little event, but then again, why wouldn't you come? This has more publicity than the last Quidditch World Cup." Surprised laughter. He gave them all a rueful grin. "A World Cup, that I, as any self respecting English citizen, was thoroughly disappointed in." There were more laughs and a few groans of agreement. "Not that I am here to promote Quidditch or anything," he added, earning more laughs form the crowd. Oh, yes, they were beginning to fall in love with him.

"I'm sure you've all seen me in the news and I have found that all of this attention and fame has really led me to truly discover the true Draco Malfoy. Why I was reading an article in Witch Weekly and I found out that I was more compatible with Harry Potter, than with myself." Riotous laughter. He gave them all a smile and continued over the laughs. "Harry Potter, who is of course the new Seeker for the Chudley Canons, of which I am the official sponsor, not that I am here to promote Quidditch or anything." They continued to laugh and inwardly he smirked. Oh, yes. They loved him.

He let the laughter die out before continuing. "On a more serious note, this ball is benefiting those of our fellow countrymen who have fallen in on hard times. I believe that it is our responsibility to help our brothers and sisters regain what they have lost, so I would like to thank you all for coming again and supporting those in need. Additional donations can be made by the door. Remember all of the proceeds will be given straight to relief funds. Thank you all, and have a splendid evening."

He left the stage to thunderous applause and he returned to his seat as the announcer took back the podium.

"At this time, I would ask you all to stand as the tables will vanish and the dancing begin."

The guests applauded and stood and the room was transformed under their very feet. The carpet disappeared into a polished wood floor, the tables vanished and smaller ones appeared along the edges with chairs for those who would rather watch then participate. A bar appeared in place of the podium, the lights dimmed, and the music struck up. Couples slowly worked their way onto the floor.

Draco alternated dancing with bejeweled witches and talking business with wizards along the side, some of whom promised to bring back some of their companies. He tried to keep his eye on Ginny only she was dancing and it was hard to keep track of her, though he did see her once or twice in the company of a red robe. It was rather late when he spotted her with a group of witches, rather fashionably dressed witches with diamonds sparkling at neck, wrist, finger, and any other place possible to put a gem. He recognized several of the witches from when he attended parties with his family when he was younger and he knew that whatever they were saying, it wasn't going to be kind.

He excused himself to the group of wizards he was talking to and made his way over to his business manager, picking up the conversation as he approached.

"-your family, Ginevra?" asked one blonde witch in a condescending tone.

"My family is very well, thank you," said Ginny, her tone very polite.

"Now, your brothers are out of work, yes?"

"Some of them," said Ginny. "Although the third and fourth eldest are running a successful joke shop. Perhaps you've heard of it, Weas-,"

"I've heard of it," the witch sniffed. "Rather disgraceful, that shop. So rowdy, so loud, so…garish."

"Oh, I can think of a few more disgraceful things," said Ginny, her voice quite innocent and sweet. "Azkaban for one thing," she mused, but her implications rang clear. The blonde's father and brother were residing in the prison for Death Eater activities. Draco mentally cheered Ginny for the blow, but saw the blonde preparing for a reply, and stepped in.

"Ah, there you are, Ginevra," he said, smiling warmly at her. "I've been looking all over for you." He turned his attention to the group of witches and smiled in recognition. "Mrs. Rebled, how charming to see you again."

"Well, I'll be! Draco Malfoy," said the blonde, giving him her hand. He kissed the back of her hand and allowed a half-smile to hover on his lips. "I haven't seen you since the funeral," the blonde continued. "Such a pity. Anyway, I remember you when you were just an infant. Although I must say," her heavily make-upped eyes raked over his body, "you have grown up quite nicely."

He forced himself to smile at the compliment, although the idea of having a woman his mother's age look him over was wrong on so many levels.

"And you haven't aged a day, Mrs. Rebled," he said, using her title in hopes of reminding her of the age difference.

"Please, call me Desdemona. I feel so old when you call me Mrs. Rebled."

"Of course, Desdemona," he said gallantly. "Will you introduce me to your friends?"

She smiled prettily at him and did so. She was half way through her group when he felt Ginny leave his side, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her step out onto the balcony. It was a few, agonizing minutes of small talk and banter, in which Desdemona revealed that she was divorced and single now, before he could escape without being rude, and once free of the witches, he stepped out onto the balcony.

It was dark, the only light spilling from the open doorway and the stars. There was no one else on the balcony, as it had only just stopped raining, and there was a definite chill in the air. Draco spotted Ginny sitting at a small table for two, her back to him. He joined her.

"I'll be back to mingling in a moment," said Ginny. "But my feet hurt." She sounded rather petulant and he smiled, looking down at her petite feet in ivory, strappy high heels.

"I'm sorry," he said, deciding to get the apologizing done and over with. He should have known it would never be that easy with Ginny.

"It's not your fault," she said. "I chose the shoes because they gave me an extra three inches even though I knew they would end up killing me."

"No," he said. "I'm sorry for…the other thing."

"What other thing?" she asked, brow knitting in confusion.

He sighed. "When I may have, may have acted…,"

"Acted like a rude git without any manners what-so-ever for no apparent reason?" she finished.

He glared at her; she knew exactly what he was trying to apologize for and she was just making him admit to it all. She smiled sweetly, then shivered.

"You're cold, do you want to go back in?" he asked.

She shook her head, stifling a yawn. "I want to stay out here; I'm not up to more people just yet."

He understood completely. Draco slipped off his dress robes, then walked behind her and draped them over her bare shoulders. She looked over her shoulder at him in surprise.

"You're not cold?" she asked.

"Nah," said Draco. He went back to his seat and gracefully flung himself into it, lounging out comfortably. Come to think of it, he was rather tired as well. He felt eyes on him and he looked up to see Ginny studying him curiously.

"You know, you're not always difficult," she said in response to his raised eyebrow.

"Flattered, I'm sure," Draco drawled.

"That woman I was talking to, you knew her?"

"Was a friend of mother's," said Draco shortly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ginny, shying away from the topic of his family.

"It's fine," said Draco. He honestly didn't care.

"So, it wasn't anything more, then?" asked Ginny, teasing him. "I mean the way she looked at you…," she trailed off laughing at the expression of repulsion on his face.

"She's old enough to be my mother," said Draco, shuddering.

"She didn't look that old."

"With as much make-up on as she has, you wouldn't be able to tell if her skin was green with pink polka dots," Draco said and Ginny laughed again. "What brought that question on?" he asked, once her giggles had subsided. "Usually when a girl asks what the relationship is between a man and a woman, it means she is interested in the man." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you interested in me Ginevra?"

"Absolutely not!" she responded, cheeks flaming red.

"Well, you are a Malfoy girl," he said.

"And you are getting in one of your difficult moods," she said.

"I like being difficult," he said, shrugging.

"Obviously," said Ginny.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing," she said.

"Look who's being difficult now."

"You must have rubbed off on me."

"Nonsense, we aren't close enough to be rubbing," said Draco, just to watch her cheeks go red again. "But I can fix that," said Draco. He stood and held out his hand. "The final song is playing; dance with me." She stood as well, without taking his hand, shrugged off his robes and put them in his open palm. He pulled them on quickly and then she slipped her arm through his and they entered the party just in time for the final waltz.

She was a good dancer, he decided after only thirty seconds of the waltz. She wasn't afraid to let him lead and she matched him step for graceful step. She was lively too; none of this clinging thing women sometimes did as an excuse to get close. She smiled when they spun and she laughed when he twirled her round and round. Yes, she was a good dancer. He pulled her close as the song slowed and nearly lost himself in the beautiful hazel eyes that looked up at him.

But he distanced himself with a bow and kissed her hand at the end of the dance. He walked her back to the portkey platform and watched her leave, part of him demanding to know why he hadn't taken her in his arms and kissed her good and hard, but the other part knew why and held its tongue.

He pushed thoughts of a certain redhead out of his mind and turned to bid the guests good by that were lining up on the red carpet ready to go home.

-------------------------

Well, what do you think? Please review! I want to know if there are things I should add or if I am missing things, or if you are confused. Please let me know and review! Now, you, yes you, don't you dare click that back button, click the little bluish button that says "Go" by the submit review box, click it now and write "that was amazing, I want more" or something to that affect. lol


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would get my hair professionally done. Every day. For the rest of my life. So I wouldn't have to deal with it.

Alexandria J. Malfoy: It's great to hear from you again. I was like 'gosh just kiss' as well, and I write the thing

Rema: lol, I hate it when technology messes up as well, thanks for the review! I loved it

DCoD: thank you so much, your reviews are so nice, I want to see what a family dinner looks like as well

------------------------------------------------------

"Draco, call on line two," Shelia paged over the intercom on the phone in his office.

"Excuse me for a moment, Minister," said Draco into the mouthpiece. He put the Minister on hold and hit the com to Shelia. "Shells, I'm on the phone right now. With the _Minister_."

"Yeah, well that's the French _Minister_ on the line," said Shelia.

"Damn," said Draco. "Tell him I'll be right with him." He picked up the phone again. "My apologies Minister."

"It's quite fine, Draco," came Lupin's voice. "I hear you are busier than me with all sorts of projects and what not."

"A lot of what not," Draco agreed. "So, for now I have the initial building plans for the museum wing, and the rest should come together in the month."

"Very good," said Lupin.

"Until later, Minister," said Draco, preparing to hang up.

"One more question, Draco," said Lupin.

"Yes, sir?"

"I've been looking at a few statistics. While employment has risen drastically, it's not enough to support the English Wizarding World and no money has come into circulation. If this doesn't work, are you going to pull out? Don't take offense to this, but I will need to prepare if that is the case."

"I'm not pulling out," said Draco. "This economy will recover. That is a pledge I have made, and I will not leave until I see that it has happened."

"That answers my question," said Lupin, sounding relieved. "I shall let you go back to work now. Good day, Mr. Malfoy, and thank you."

"Good day, Minister," said Draco and he hung up and then rested his head in his hands for a minute.

It was Wednesday after the ball and while many corporations had promised to bring back businesses, nothing had happened so far. His team of financial and economic analysts had also shown that there was no change in the sunken economy, something that confused and angered Draco. He wished that it would either go up or even down, at least some response so that he would know if he was doing the right or wrong thing. But no matter what he did, the lines on the graphs remained steadily, depressingly low on the charts.

He had been at work from seven-thirty to nine pm each day that week, and he had been just as demanding on his employees. Shelia's usually smiling face was flat and tired, and Ginny's forehead was pinched in a continuous frown. He was hardly home, something which was frustrating Pansy, who was convinced he would fall sick from the constant long hours, but he didn't really have a choice.

He was running three new, upstart companies in England, was in charge of five more overseas, and had invested in a dozen others in the London area alone. Just looking over the progress of the companies was a hard day at work.

He ran a hand through his hair and picked up the phone, punching the line two button. "Bonjour, Henri," he said.

----------------------------

It was three in the afternoon when Draco heard Shelia's extremely American cry of "Holla!" He looked up when she poked her head in his office.

"That was New Foundations," she said. "The first group of houses is done, and employees will be moving in within the hour!"

Draco let the smile light up his features; the good news was incredibly welcome.

"The press is already there," said Shelia.

"Damn," said Draco, the smile slipping from his lips. "Alright, get Ginevra. We're heading over now."

He grabbed his cloak as it was still March and although it had been warm for the past few days, the chill was coming back. He then checked his reflection in the mirror, pleased to note that his appearance was flawless. He headed out the door.

"Ginevra, we were supposed to be there two minutes ago!" he yelled in the direction of his business manager's office.

"Oh, hold your horses," she shot back, grabbing a deep green cloak and pulling it on as she walked up to him.

"Let's go," he said. He led the way outside and then they both Apparated to the new complex. Draco had only visited it once, when it was just an empty lot on the edge of Diagon Alley, but now it was a cute, little subdivision made up of one story houses the ideal size for a family of four or five. The houses were the exact same style and shape, and only came in white, blue, or brown, but the gardens were different and all quite original.

"They're beautiful," said Ginny. "And it is a perfect day for this."

"The sun does make a good effect on camera," Draco agreed.

"I meant that it was a good day for them to move in," said Ginny exasperated.

He knew what she meant; he just loved to aggravate her. She was right. There were a few white fluffy clouds in the light blue sky, and the sun was shining brightly. The wind was a little too cold, but overall it was a good first impression for the new residents of Janus Lane. Ginny had come up with the name. Janus was Latin, a god of beginnings and Draco thought it a fitting title.

The press was indeed already there, wandering around the uninhabited suburb neighborhood and taking pictures of the houses and gardens. They hadn't noticed Draco or Ginny yet, and for that he was grateful. He wanted to take in the scene before him and allow the sense of satisfaction to hit before he was worrying about how he looked and sounded in front of the entire wizarding public.

He had only been there two minutes when things turned ugly. The moving crew arrived in the middle of the street along with the first portkey of family belongings and possessions to be taken to the first house. However, before the first group was cleared off of the road, the second portkey arrived, dumping another family's luggage directly on the first.

"The hell-?" Draco asked starting forward as the moving crew tried to deal with the surprise arrival. There was compete confusion as the cameras zoomed in on the pile of mixed baggage and furniture. To make things worse, the families started arriving then.

"What's this?" an anxious woman cried, seeing her property crushed by someone else's. "That's my great grandmother's piano underneath that wardrobe!"

The movers went to levitate the large closet off of the piano, but another woman's screeched stopped them. "No! You can't use magic on it!"

The movers manually lifted the wardrobe off, a feat that took five of them, but as soon as they had done so, the third portkey group arrived, and now at least six different families were standing about the pile of possessions, looking on in horror.

"Ginevra, put your beautiful management skills to use," said Draco.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ginny.

"Find out who the hell is in charge here," said Draco, heading to a group of movers who were standing a little ways off of the group and yelling.

"Instead of every twenty minutes, the luggage is coming every two!" one of the movers shouted into a cell phone. "No, don't 'Now, Frank' me! I told you that the Rilla woman was no good. She had better be fired by the time I come back." Frank hung up the cell phone and then glared at the men crowded around him. "What are you waiting for? Start getting the shit out of there!" He turned his glare on Draco who was now next to him. "The hell do you want? Oh! Mr. Malfoy! Sorry, I didn't recognize you at first. Do you need anything?"

"Just wondering if you need any help," said Draco.

"Well, yes, but nothing that you would want to do," said Frank eyeing him dubiously.

"I've got nothing better to do except field questions from obnoxious reporters. I'd much rather do something to help." It was the truth; he had never been one to stand around while things went to hell in a hand basket. Plus, the reporters would just be hounding him with stupid questions about the mix-up and it really wasn't his fault.

"I s'pose," said Frank, realizing he was serious about the whole helping out thing. "You any good at levitation charms?"

"Passable," said Draco. He'd received an O on his charms NEWT's.

"You can help me," said Frank. "And here." He pulled off his company cap and tossed it to Draco. "I'm assuming you don't want the press to see you, and your hair is a rather obvious giveaway."

Draco smiled and shoved the baseball hat over his silver-blond locks and then shrugged off his cloak and robes, leaving him in black trousers and a black button up shirt, and tossed them next to a few miscellaneous pieces of equipment.

"Let's go then," said Frank leading the way down to the portkey point. By the time they got there, Ginny had worked her magic. The movers were now simply clearing out the area where the portkey would drop the stuff and placing it in piles, where Ginny would label which went to which house. She was also having more movers break up the piles into two groupings: what could be moved by magic, and what was too old or had repelling charms on it so they had to be moved manually.

"How much can you lift?" asked Frank. "Think you can handle one side of this piano?"

"I guess we'll find out," said Draco. He took one end of the piano, Frank the other, and on the count of three they lifted. It was a small piano, but still heavy and with almost no areas to get a good grip. They took several stops but finally made it to the first house where the new owner directed them where to put it. Draco set it down, feeling an immense sense of relief and accomplishment.

"Back out we go then," said Frank, rolling out tense shoulder muscles.

"Joy," said Draco. Frank just laughed.

They returned to the road to see that all of the furniture and belongings had arrived for the fifteen houses and were now sitting in the middle of the street in organized heaps. Ginny was helping the children find their toy boxes and then supervising them as they carried them into their new houses, wide grins on their faces.

Draco and Frank carried in two wardrobes, three sofas, another piano, a coffee table which was surprisingly heavy, two trunks and a kitchen table, all to different houses. Draco discovered that this was a great way to survey his handiwork. He was actually entering the houses and conversing with homeowners who kept up a pleasant dialogue as they directed them to specific rooms.

It was also entertaining to hear exactly what they thought of him, at least Frank found it entertaining. Sometimes he would even initiate the conversation saying thinks like "David here thinks that the Malfoy bloke is out to no good. What do you think?" or "Don believes Malfoy will save the wizarding world, what about you?" The first time he had done that Draco was so surprised that he forgot to watch where he was going and smashed his hand between the piano they were lifting and the edge of a doorway, bloodying the first knuckles of his middle and ring fingers and causing him to burst out in a few, choice French expletives.

"Sorry about that," Frank had told the shocked home owner. "Damon's not used to manual labor." He had then laughed heartily at Draco's expense.

The press had taped the duo carrying in the various furnishings without realizing that the very Draco Malfoy they were looking for to get a comment from was the young mover in the rather nice black shirt and pants and baseball cap. They had even interviewed Frank as he and Draco were carrying the coffee table, zooming in on Frank and Draco, who kept his head down in hopes they wouldn't recognize him.

And they hadn't; and Draco was beginning to think he might get away without being noticed at all because it was getting slightly dark out and he and Frank were carrying the last piece in, which happened to be another piano. However, they passed Ginny on the way over and the press was pelting her with questions about Malfoy Enterprises, as Draco Malfoy was absent, and she was obviously sick of it.

"How about you ask Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said, sweetly. Draco looked up alarmed and met her bemused gaze.

He shook his head furiously at her but she just smiled cheerily and said, pointing at Draco, "He's right there."

I hate you, he mouthed at her as the reporters whipped around to stare at him. He stifled a groan as they flocked over.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel the move has gone today?" asked the first reporter who reached him, shoving a microphone to his lips and the camera man getting up in his face.

"I feel that it has gone well," said Draco, a little out of breath because he was hauling a large wood instrument around. "There was a slight mix-up in the beginning, but once we realized what was going on, we were able to fix the problem and things ran smoothly from there." His grip slipped a bit and he looked to Frank, who nodded. They set the piano down and Draco pulled off his cap to wipe off the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

"What do you have to say about the economy which appears to not have been affected despite all of your efforts?" shouted out one from the crowd.

Damn, they knew how to ask the right questions. "These things take time," he said, resetting the cap on his head and nodding to Frank. They heaved up the large instrument and started for the house again. "You can't expect the economy to simply change in a week just because a couple hundred jobs opened up. People have to begin spending money again to circulate it, and I believe we will begin to see change after the first paycheck."

"Do you believe that the economy will recover?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here."

"Why are you carrying a piano?"

Frank snorted; Draco smirked. "I felt I should help out and lend a hand," he said. They reached the front door. "Now if you'll excuse me while I set this piano up, I will be right back. I have a feeling that a horde of reporters trampling through the living room is not what these people need right now," he said.

There were a few chuckles and the reporters waited while Draco and Frank put the piano in the den for a family who seemed very surprised to see the gaggle of reporters outside of their house.

"I do not envy your job," Draco told Frank, stretching out his stiff back and neck.

"And I do not envy you yours," said Frank.

They stepped back outside.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you believe more companies will come back to England now that Malfoy Enterprises has opened up the market?"

"Yes, I believe so. Right now it is just a matter of when and where for many companies and I have received many promises from several incorporations that they would bring business back to Great Britain. Last question, please. I probably smell and am in desperate need of a shower."

There was laughter and then a voice called out, "What did you do to your hand?"

Draco looked down at his left hand and saw the dried blood and bruised fingers, which began to sting and throb as soon as he took note of it.

"Hazards of the job," he said. "I would like to thank Frank Rite for the excellent job his company has done and for allowing me to join him for the day." They shook hands. "And that is all," said Draco. "Here's your hat back," he told Frank, handing it to him.

"Keep it," said Frank smiling.

"Thanks," said Draco. They shook hands again and the press took more pictures. Draco stepped off of the porch and started down the lawn to find Ginny, the press following and snapping photos and calling out more questions.

"Do they ever stop?" Frank asked.

"No," said Draco. Ginny met him with his discarded robes.

"Going home?" she asked.

"For now," Draco said reaching for the robes, but she wouldn't release them.

"I'm coming over," she said.

"You are?" he asked.

"Pansy invited me. She figured if you had a guest over you might actually eat dinner."

"Did she now," mused Draco, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, come on. It's not a big deal," said Ginny. "Let's go, I'm hungry."

He smiled inwardly at her bossy tone. "Fine."

He pulled out his wand and Apparated to his house, Ginny appearing beside him a second later. Rolly was there in an instant.

"Master is home!" the elf squealed. "Is Master staying for dinner this time? Oh, Master has hurt his hand!" The excitable creature was practically jumping around.

"He's fine, Rolly," said Ginny, handing the elf his robes and cloak. "Where is Pansy?"

"Ms. Zabini is in the east wing library, Miss. Are you sure that Master is alright?"

"I'm fine Rolly," said Draco. "You can go now."

The elf disappeared and Ginny headed for the library, evidently knowing her way around. Draco followed her down the hall and entered the large, book filled room. All throughout the shelves and stacks of volumes were comfortable armchairs and desks. The front of the room was open with a low table, a sofa, a few armchairs and a fireplace. That was where Pansy was. She was sketching a new design for a room for her design company while overseeing Lida who was sitting at the low table working on her letters. Dragon was beside her, copying her attempts, and Amandine was asleep in a baby carrier set on the floor.

"Sweet Merlin," said Pansy to Ginny as they entered the room. "You got him home early. However did you manage that? It's just past five-thirty."

"Not my doing," said Ginny, as Lida ran over to him.

"Look at my letter, Uncle Draco!" she chirped. Draco obligingly squatted next to the girl and took the proffered piece of paper.

"Very good," he said, not able to decipher a word.

"It's for Daddy," said Lida, taking it back again. "Now I'm going to color him a picture of a unicorn. D'you think he would like that?"

"Very much," said Draco.

The girl went back to the table and Draco found Dragon staring at him. He smiled and waved at the boy, who grinned back.

"Is that Uncle Draco?" asked Pansy to her son. "Can you say 'Uncle Draco'?"

The boy didn't respond, though he stopped smiling.

"It's fine," said Draco, and the boy smiled again then launched himself at Draco. Draco was so surprised he fell from his squatting position onto his butt, but he managed to catch the boy. "Ooof," he grunted. "You're getting big."

The boy smiled and then climbed off his lap to go back to his coloring. Draco watched him and then turned to see Pansy and Ginny exchange a look and smile. He glared at them, which only made them smile wider and he gave up, getting stiffly to his feet and then collapsing into a squishy armchair.

"So why are you back so early?" asked Pansy.

"Because I need a shower," said Draco. "I've been lugging furniture around all day."

Pansy looked to Ginny for an explanation.

"The first fifteen houses were completed today and people began moving in. Unfortunately the moving company messed up the portkey arrival for all of the luggage and everything, so that every two minutes a new group arrived right on top of the stuff ahead of it."

"Are you serious?" asked Pansy.

"Completely," said Ginny. "What made it worse was then the families started arriving and saw all of their things being dumped on top of each other."

"What happened?" Pansy asked.

"I had them simply clear the things into piles by the side of the portkey point and then take the time to put them in actual houses," said Ginny. "And Draco here decided to go undercover and help them move around all of the stuff that couldn't be levitated."

"Undercover?" Pansy asked him with a grin.

"It wasn't undercover," said Draco. "I just didn't want to be hounded by reporters and I figured since I was there I might at least help out."

Dragon came back then, holding up a piece of paper. Draco pulled him up onto his lap and then took the page. On it was a blob of green and red crayon that was most obviously a dragon blowing flames. The shape was a little warped and the legs a little stubby, but it was a dragon.

"You drew this?" Draco asked. The boy nodded his head. "This is really good," said Draco, impressed. "Pansy, this is incredible."

"He's most definitely an artist," said Pansy. "I remember the first time we gave him crayons…," she trailed off, smiling at the memory. Draco turned back to Dragon who was tapping his arm.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, noting the concern in the large, brown eyes. Dragon pointed to Draco's hand that was holding the picture, or rather to two of Draco's fingers that were bruised blue and although they were scabbed over, a few edges of the scrapes were still leaking fresh blood. "Oh," said Draco. "I'm fine. It's just a little scrape, is all."

"What's scraped?" asked Pansy. "Did you hurt yourself, Draco?"

Draco held up his hand and showed her the swollen fingers. "Nothing serious," he told her, but she held out her own hand. Sighing, Draco stretched out his palm and she took his hand in her smaller ones, examining the fingers.

"What happened?" she asked, prodding the wound.

Draco masked a wince. "Managed to catch my fingers between a piano and a door," he said, shrugging. Dragon's tiny fingers wrapped around his good hand as they watched Pansy look over his smashed digits. As a matter of fact, Draco's injury seemed to be gaining the attention of everyone in the room, and he scowled. "I'm fine," he said, trying to pull his hand back, but Pansy held on tight.

"Nonsense," said Pansy. "If you let me deal with it now, then it will heal that much faster. Rolly," she commanded. The house elf appeared with a pop.

"Yes, Ms. Zabini," he asked, staring at Draco's hand as well.

"Get me a bowl of warm water, a clean cloth, and a first aid kit," said Pansy.

"Oh, right away, Ms. Zabini. Right away!" squealed the elf. He disappeared and Pansy released Draco's hand, which he removed from her immediate area, to pull the table closer to him.

"You never used to be this fussy," said Draco.

"I wasn't a mother than," said Pansy. "You're going to have to let me fuss. It's how I show that I care."

"Touched, I'm sure," Draco drawled.

"I swear," said Pansy, shaking her head. "You and Harry both."

"Both what?" asked Draco suspiciously. "And why are you comparing me to Potter?"

"Both take way too much on yourselves thinking you have to save the world."

"I'm merely trying to save England," said Draco sourly. "The rest of the world can go hang."

"And you both refuse to take care of yourselves. Too bad neither of you are gay; you two would have made a perfect couple."

Draco stared, completely dumbstruck, his mind trying to fathom what exactly Pansy had just said. He most likely would have stayed like that, staring at her, had not a completely odd sound distracted him. He glanced over to see Ginny sitting on the floor next to Lida practically spluttering while trying not to laugh. She gave up and her hysterical giggles filled the room, prompting Pansy to laugh as well.

"The look-," Ginny gasped through her laughter. "The look on your face-priceless." She and Pansy went off into another peal of laughter, then finally died down when Rolly re-appeared with the medical supplies.

"Will Misses be needing anything else?" he asked.

"No, thank you Rolly, you may go," said Pansy, collecting herself. The house elf set the things down on the table and then left. Pansy knelt by Draco's side. "Give me your hand, Draco," she said, dipping the cloth in the bowl of water.

"No," said Draco, setting Dragon on the ground and crossing his arms across his chest. Yes, it was childish, but she had just not only suggested that he was gay, but that he hook up with Potter. _Potter_, none-the-less.

"Look, I'm sorry about the Harry comment, alright?" said Pansy. "It wasn't funny."

"I found it hilarious," said Ginny.

"Ginevra, would you mind going to my study and owling someone for me?" asked Draco. "She sent me a letter, and I don't remember her name, but she sent me her picture. Blonde, tan, twenty-five years old, pretty face and great body. Tell her I would love to meet her for dinner, and that I'm free over the weekend. Over the _entire_ weekend in fact." He smirked as Ginny's face blushed scarlet.

"Fine, I get your point. You're not gay," said Ginny.

"Good," said Draco, smirking even more and uncrossing his arms. Pansy took advantage of his temporary distraction to reach out and grab his hand. "Hey-," he started, but she had plunged his hand into the water and began to scrub the dirt off. "Bloody hell!" he yelled, wrenching his hand out of her grasp. That had stung.

"Are you going to behave and let me see it?" she asked, frowning at him.

"Not after that," he said, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck on.

"Eww, don't do that," Pansy scolded, trying to grab his arm to pull his hand away from his mouth. "If you actually _let_ me see it, it won't hurt so much. Be a good example for the children."

He looked at the kids to see Lida watching him with curious blue eyes and Dragon staring at him with troubled brown ones. It looked like he was about to cry.

"Fine," he sighed, holding out his hand. She took it and gently began to wash the torn flesh; it still stung but Draco didn't say anything. He even managed to smile at Dragon.

"Well, you didn't break any bones," said Pansy, studying his fingers now that all the grime was gone, "but you did manage to jam your knuckles." She slathered a bit of healing lotion on the wound and then wrapped his middle and ring finger together in gauze. "You'll be better by tomorrow," she promised. "Now go take a shower, and don't worry about the dressing; it's water repellant."

"But you didn't kiss it," said Lida.

"What?" asked Draco confused.

"When I fall down and got a boo-boo, Mommy has to kiss it to make it better," said Lida, as if this were obvious.

"'Kiss it to make it better'?" Draco asked, turning to Pansy for an explanation.

"It's what my mother did for me," said Pansy.

"Mine too," said Ginny. "A mother's kiss has a magic all its own and it is known to cure the most grievous of hurts."

Draco had no clue what the hell they were talking about, but Lida seemed extremely concerned, so he spoke up.

"But your mum isn't my mother," he told Lida. "So it wouldn't work."

"Well, then get your mum to kiss it for you," said Lida.

"My mother's dead," said Draco. Not that she would have anyway. He couldn't recall her ever giving him a kiss.

"Well then Aunt Ginny could kiss it for you," said Lida undaunted. "She doesn't have any kids, so her kiss would work on everyone."

Draco was speechless for the second time that night. He glanced over at Ginny whose cheeks were bright red and who was studiously staring at the floor. Pansy had her hand over her mouth partly in embarrassment, and partly because she was trying not to laugh.

"I think I'll be okay," he told the girl, standing up to go to his room.

She looked at him, clearly troubled. "I would kiss it for you, but I'm not grown up yet, so it wouldn't work," she told him, biting her lip in worry. "I don't want you to be hurt, Uncle Draco."

Aw, shit. She was going to cry. He couldn't cope with crying females, no matter what age.

"Oh, Lida, don't cry," said Ginny, pulling the girl into a hug. "If you want me to, I'll kiss Uncle Draco's hand all better, okay?"

The girl nodded and Ginny kissed the top of her head, then gracefully got to her feet. Draco suddenly felt his chest constricting and his heart beating abnormally fast. He swore time slowed as Ginny made her way over to his side, looking far too pretty for her own good in a tight navy sweater and a khaki skirt. She stopped in front of him.

"You, uh, you don't really have to…you know," Draco whispered.

"It's fine," she whispered back, her hazel eyes filled with humor and a good bit of hesitancy. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither knowing what to do. "I suppose I need your hand," said Ginny.

"Oh, yeah," said Draco, feeling a slight flush creep up his cheeks. His only consolation was that Ginny was practically scarlet, but she took his bandaged hand, her warm hands on his cold one, and bent her head over it. Draco's breathing hitched when her hair brushed against his bare skin and he stopped breathing altogether when her lips pressed against the bandage, once on his middle finger and once on his ring finger. A kiss through a bandage on his hand should not send his mind reeling like that, but it did.

"I suppose you should go get cleaned up now," Ginny said.

"Huh?" asked Draco, just realizing that she had straightened up and was looking up at him with amusement in her eyes.

"Shower," said Ginny.

"Oh, I know," said Draco. "I'm just waiting for my hand back."

She looked down to see that her hands were still holding onto his and her cheeks flamed red again, rivaling the color of her hair. She let go and took a step back; Draco found himself missing the warmth her hands brought. He nodded to her and left the room, opening the door with his injured left hand out of habit. Huh, he thought, his hand really did feel better.

---------------------------------------

Well, what do you think? Please review, and thank you. (Ha! I was polite! Now you have to review! Muwhahahaha! that's evil laughter)


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would have a fashion stylist pick out my clothes. Every day. For the rest of my life. So I could sleep in and not worry about what I have to wear.

Maria: Thanks.

DCoD: I'm sorry it's taken me a while, but here's more.

Alexandria J. Malfoy: thanks a lot, I'm glad you enjoyed it

Rema: Go you, I definitely tried for slight foreshadowing. And I love your imagery on the techno thing, lol

-----------------------------------------

Draco woke up Thursday to the swish of opening curtains and a sudden light bathing over him. He groaned in protest and rolled over, burying his face under his pillow. There was a musical laugh that did not belong to the house elf in charge of waking him, and he froze. Was that-?

"Come on Draco, wake up," said Ginny, pulling the pillow off of his head.

"What are you doing here?" he moaned, reaching for the other pillow and pulling that one over his head.

"I stayed the night, remember? Pansy asked me to," she said, pulling away that one as well with a swift yank.

"Yes, but what are you doing _here_?"

"Waking you up," she said, way to cheerful for the morning.

He frowned, distinctly remembering a time when she wasn't a morning person. "You're not always like this in the morning, are you?" he asked.

"Only after my shower," she said. "Now get up." She thwacked him with one of the confiscated pillows.

He turned his head to look at her. She was in a silky dressing gown that was a pleasant coral color and her hair was wet and pulled back in a sloppy bun. He made a show of pulling up the covers even higher and closing his eyes. He was not expecting the pillow smacking him in the face.

"Hey!" he said, opening his eyes again.

"I've grown up with six brothers," she said. "I know how to get them up. Besides, it's seven-thirty."

"What?" he demanded, sitting up and kicking the covers off. Ginny blushed, making him realize he was just in a pair of dangerously low sweat pants, his pale toned chest and abs completely bare. Her blush made him smirk, and then he realized what she said. "Seven-thirty?" he demanded again.

It was Ginny's turn to smirk. "Six-thirty," she amended. "I just knew it would get you up."

Draco glared, but stood up, running a hand through his hair.

"Porcupine," said Ginny, now smiling. He decided that he liked her smile, but it faded as her eyes fastened on his chest, more specifically, his side. "Is that where-?" she asked. He looked down to see the scar from his father, just under his ribs on his left side.

"Yeah," he said, shifting a little.

She reached out then hesitated. "Can I?" she whispered.

His breath stuck in his throat and he mutely nodded though his whole body tensed as her hand came closer. Her touch was feather soft, but he couldn't stop the flinch that caused her to retract her hand as if burnt.

"I'm sorry," she said, quickly. "Did I-?"

He cut her off. "It doesn't hurt."

She turned her hazel eyes on his face. "Then why did you flinch?"

"I didn't-," he stopped his denial, knowing it was a complete lie. "I'm not used to people touching me," he said, a note of defiance in his voice. "That's all." He met her soft gaze with a challenging stare.

"I see," said Ginny, keeping her eyes locked on his. She reached out again, he knew because he could see her hand in his peripheral vision and he stiffened even more. He shut his eyes tight as her hand came closer and then found the scar on his side, causing him to shudder. He forced himself to relax as she explored the raised line and he opened his eyes to find her own still on his, and he had a feeling that in that moment, she learned more about him than he was comfortable with, and in response to that second of panic, his mask slammed shut on his face with a resounding echo. She noticed the change and withdrew her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice as soft as her touch. She brought her fingers to her mouth, kissed them, and then placed them once more on his scar. And then she turned around and left, closing the door behind her. He sat back on the bed, shaking hard and not knowing why.

They didn't talk about that moment again, and for that Draco knew he should be grateful, but yet he couldn't bring himself to feel it.

-------------------------------------------

Saturday came and Draco was at his office. It was Saturday April 2nd in fact which meant the Tuesday coming up would be the first Tuesday in April and that meant a 'family' dinner. Draco was invited; he had in fact been invited several times by several different people. Hermione sent him a letter saying that, as it was her house the party was at, no matter what he did, Ginny couldn't un-invite him, although she didn't recommend doing anything to Ginny because she was the youngest sister to six very over-protective brothers who would also be in attendance. Blaise and Pansy also had invited him, literally making him swear to go to the next one after threatening him with all sorts of evils if he didn't go.

He had met with Snape a few times for tea (he had coffee, which had caused Snape to frown in disgust) and Sev had told him he had better go because he was sick of being the only Slytherin there. He had then gone on to say that the Zabinis didn't count because they were married and far too happy for any true Slytherin.

Harry had even asked if he was going. They had met up a few times to discuss a charity event, which was scheduled to begin in an hour, and Potter had casually wondered if he was going. He had asked so casually in fact that Draco immediately knew there was some type of motive besides true curiosity that prompted him to speak.

"_Why are you asking?" Draco asked, his mask ready to slip on at any moment._

_Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sick of being the only unattached male there," he said awkwardly. "Besides Snape of course and he doesn't really count. Neither do Fred and George, they have each other. And because I'm unattached and Ginny is as well, they're always, you know, forcing us to sit next to each other and dropping casual hints."_

"_I thought she liked you," said Draco noncommittally, as if this subject didn't bother him in the least, when in all actuality he was suddenly nervous and hoping they weren't together._

_Harry snorted. "That was a second year crush," he said. "We actually did try going out to dinner to make everyone happy, but that was the most awkward date any of us have ever had. We're like brother and sister, that's it."_

_Part of Draco sighed in relief, another part was practically jumping in joy, and part of him yelled angrily for them to shut the hell up. He and Ginny did not have a thing anymore. They didn't have a thing ever, he told himself harshly._

"_I'm going," Draco affirmed. "Pansy would have my head if I didn't."_

_Harry looked relieved. "Thanks," he said. "Alright, now about this charity thing…," _

Draco pushed himself out of his thoughts and glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty in the morning. The event would begin at eleven; he might as well go now. Ginny had the same idea for she came into his office.

"We should probably head down a little early," she said. She was already wearing her coat, a light weight blue one that reached her ankles.

"Probably," Draco agreed. He thought about picking up the papers, forms, and letters that covered his desk, but then decided it was too much hassle. He grabbed his coat and the two walked through the mostly deserted office building. He had called his team of analyst in to keep track of the economy, in fact he had them on a rotating twenty four hour shift, so that there was someone always watching the numbers, so if something started happening he would be alerted no matter what hour or what day. They stepped outside and several cameras went off as he had been constantly hounded by the paparazzi and reporters ever since the 'undercover mover' fiasco.

They Apparated away and appeared at a rather remote Quidditch field. A large orange sign read "The Canon Carnival" and in smaller letters, 'hosted by Malfoy Enterprises'. All across the field were several different booths set up with games.

One was a magical dunking booth where the children could hit a bludger towards a target and dunk a Canon player. There was another station where children could ride brooms and play a miniature game of Quidditch (the brooms had an adjustable height on them so the older kids could go higher). And there was a capture the flag set up, a take off on a Muggle game in the States that Draco had found amusing.

He had collaborated with the Weasley twins on this one. There was a large area set aside for this game, and great large padded blocks and pillars completely covered the area. Each team wore different colored jumpers and each child was given a special wand. Fred and George had come up with these and the only thing they did was cause a blue "X" to appear on the jumper the kids wore. The object of the game was for the orange team to capture the flag of the green team and visa versa, but each flag was deep in enemy territory. The kids would both have to defend their flag and also go on the offense, but if they were hit by a spell and received an "X", they would have to return to the sideline and wait until the "X" wore off. To discourage cheating, the wands would not work while the "X" was on their sweater.

There were a few other games, such as a Quaffle toss, a Snitch find, and a large maze made of hedges. There were also food stands and little candy and snack shops. Draco had said that the carnival was to promote the Canon team, and while that was true, he had another purpose for it.

He had advertised the carnival by sending invitations to every wizarding family in England. The brochure boasted of free games for the children and autographs from the entire Chudley Canon team but inside it he had placed two free meal tickets. He knew what the parents would do. They would go take the kids for some fun, and give them a meal out, but skip lunch themselves so they wouldn't have to spend any money. So he priced the meals at half their usual cost, so that the parents would see that it was cheap to eat there, and the kids were having fun, so they would buy food for themselves as well. Some of them, remembering that they had received their first paycheck and now didn't have to pay rent because they had a house, would see the cheap candy and sweets as well, and think 'why not' and buy dessert as well for their kids. And if they bought sweets, other people would as well.

Draco was not expecting to make a profit off of this; he was merely trying to introduce people into the concept of buying things again.

Harry was flying when they arrived, but when he spotted them, he went into a steep twirling dive, landed, and jogged over to meet them, shouldering his Meteor 3000.

"This broom," he said to Draco, who had given them to the team two days ago "is wicked." He was grinning wildly and his hair was hopelessly mussed.

"Show-off," said Draco, impressed at his flying, but not admitting it. Harry knew him well enough to know that was a compliment.

"You wanna give it a go?" he asked Draco, holding it out.

"Got one at home," said Draco, declining.

"How 'bout you, Gin?" asked Harry.

"Definitely," she said, unbuttoning her coat and revealing low-cut jeans and a chocolate brown sweater.

"What did I tell you about jeans?" asked Draco, trying not to notice how they hugged her hips and how the sweater was a wide-necked one, revealing her ivory shoulders.

"Don't wear them at work," she said blithely. "But we're not at work, now are we?" She grabbed the broom and then tossed her coat at Draco, who caught it by instinct. "Hold onto that for me, 'kay? Thanks." And she straddled the broom and kicked off hard. She was thirty meters in the air in the blink of an eye, giving a shout of laughter that made the corner of Draco's lips twitch.

"She's a handful, isn't she?" asked Harry. Draco turned his attention to the Seeker, and noticed that the black-haired man was watching him with his own smile playing on his lips. Draco wiped the smile off of his face and cocked an eyebrow.

"A handful?" he asked, allowing his voice to hold all sorts of connotations.

Harry reacted like he knew he would, shooting him a disgusted look and shaking his head, but dropping the subject.

"So, how's the team going?" asked Draco, folding Ginny's coat and draping it over his arm.

"Pretty good," said Harry. "Oliver is an amazing Keeper. I'm surprised he was kept second string for the Tornado's."

"Wood is good," Draco agreed. "Denson was a fool for letting me take him. He has this notion his starters have to be under twenty-five, which is stupid. Look at Tim Briar, perhaps the best Keeper ever and he started when he was twenty-seven and played for fourteen years straight."

"And Rett," said Harry. "He was thirty."

"He was good too," said Draco. "Do you think we have a chance at the World Cup?"

"Difficult to say," said Harry. "France has got Ames for a Seeker. He's good. I've been watching the tapes from last year's game and I think he's better than me."

"We've got the better Chaser's though, all you have to do is distract him long enough for us to pull ahead one-fifty. Plus, he's been in training for three years straight, and you've got three weeks, give yourself more time."

"Our first game is in two months," said Harry.

"You'll be ready," said Draco.

"The Canon's have never won a World Cup," said Harry.

"Yeah, well, no one had ever survived the killing curse before you came along either," said Draco. "I'm holding out that your dumb luck takes us to the Cup."

"Dumb luck?" asked Harry.

"My explanation to how The-Boy-Who-Is-The Stupidest- Man-To-Ever-Live managed to survive a killing curse and defeat the Dark Lord. There's no way you're smart enough for that, so I fall back on the only other logical option, sheer, dumb luck."

"I don't get why you're always harping on Gryffindors for being dumb. According to your standards, you defying the Dark Lord when the entire Order was captured is the most Gryffindor-dumb thing you could have done."

"I blame it on a bad childhood," said Draco flippantly. "What's your excuse?"

"I can't cope with fame and have an inferiority complex," said Harry easily. "And if I got through life on dumb luck, you got through it with your parents money. I'm holding out that you can buy us the World Cup."

"There's an idea," Draco mused, looking mock thoughtful. "I'll have to look into it. Thanks for tipping me off, Potter."

"No problem, Malfoy. Though I can't help but wonder, what's next?"

"What do you mean?" asked Draco.

"Well, you've already got control of the economy, now you're practically building a wing onto the Ministry, then you're going to buy the World Cup, what do you have your sights on next."

"Hogwarts, of course," said Draco, as if this were obvious. "I'll simply nip over and offer Dumbledore his very own lemon drop company in exchange for the school. And if he hesitates, I'll throw in a few chocolate frogs with his new card in them."

Harry laughed. "Unfortunately for you, Dumbledore is retired. He disappeared three years ago with a note that said he was on a well-deserved vacation. McGonagall is Headmistress now."

Draco grimaced. "Never mind, I'll let her keep Hogwarts."

"Scared of McGonagall?" Harry teased.

"Damn straight," said Draco. "She was the only teacher that wasn't even the slightest bit intimidated by me, besides Snape of course. I actually had to work for my grade in that class. I think all Slytherins were afraid of her."

"Only fair," said Harry. "You had Snape, and he was a terror."

Draco grinned. "He's not that bad. I can count a whole lot of teachers who were worse."

"I'd like to see you try."

"The fake Moody, Quirrel, Umbridge,-,"

"Hey, you liked Umbridge," said Harry. "Remember your whole little Inquisitional Squad."

Draco smiled. "You're just sore we found out about your little defense club."

"Partly," Harry admitted. "But you did work for her."

"Only because she had ties to Daddy-dearest," said Draco. "And you're changing the topic. They were a whole lot worse than Snape; I mean all of them tried to kill you."

"True," Harry conceded. "But none of them scared me like Snape did."

"He does have that affect on most people," Draco agreed.

"But of course, you're immune to it, that whole godson thing and all." Draco shot him a surprised look. "Hermione told me," Harry clarified. "I suppose a good dose of Snape when you're younger takes the fear away. Zakir really seems to love him. Of course Snape has loosened up a good deal; he's almost human now."

Draco smirked. "Don't let him hear you say that or he'll go right back to his snarky old self."

Harry grinned as well and then a horde of flashbulbs went off as the press arrived and flocked the two celebrities.

"Damnit," Harry swore. "I hate these guys."

As if she had heard him, Ginny landed in a perfect sweeping dive next to the two, and handed Harry his broom. Harry took it and gave Ginny a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Gin, you're a lifesaver." He swung his leg over the side and took off into the air. The press turned to Draco, as he was the only one left, and began asking questions, most of them were about the economy and his business, but some of them were about the wild rumors that were a side effect of being famous.

Draco raised his hands to silence them. "I am answering no questions today," he said firmly. "I invited you here because you wanted to get pictures of the carnival, not because you wanted another exclusive on me. You are not to interview myself, or my business manager, or Harry Potter. You are to mingle with the children that will be arriving soon, and ask questions of the parents, but that is all. If you do hassle myself or those I have warned you against, I will have you thrown out. Thank you."

He guided Ginny away from the horde of reporters and handed her the coat he had been holding.

"Thanks," she said, slipping it on. He had to smile at her. Her cheeks were pink from the wind during her flight and her eyes were practically sparkling with excitement. Her hair was tangled and windswept, and it made her look absolutely gorgeous. She caught his gaze, blushed, and then looked at him with question in her eyes to why he was smiling at her.

"Your hair's all mussed," he said.

Her hands flew to her hair and tried to work through the tangles. She gave up and removed a hair tie from around her wrist and pulled her hair up in a messy ponytail that was just as adorable as her mussed look, but more presentable.

"Better?" she asked.

"Stunning," he said, taking her arm and putting it through his. "Simply stunning."

She looked surprised that he had initiated the contact, and he was surprised as well, but Harry had kissed her, and that was something _he_ had wanted to do for a very long time. Well, only since Thursday, but it seemed like eternity for him, watching her at work, having her so close and yet still out of reach. He still got shivers when he thought of her touch and he had been longing to have her near him again. So he merely smirked at her and reveled in the fact that her arm was linked through his and that he could feel her warmth even through the many layers of clothing between them.

He escorted her around the field as children began to arrive, running excitedly around the calmer parents. And within the first five minutes, he knew that it was a hit.

----------------------------------------

The carnival reached its crescendo around four in the afternoon with the signing of autographs by the Canon team and followed by a flying demonstration that left the audience breathless. The wind had gotten a little chillier and most people began to gather their children and leave as the flight show was the last scheduled performance. Harry entertained the children that were left by volunteering himself for the dunking booth. Draco waited until most of the guests and reporters were gone and then took the opportunity to whack the bludger into the target and sending Harry plummeting into the water, despite Potter's protests that he was cheating because it was a game for little kids.

"It just gives me such a since of…pleasure? Joy? Happiness? No, I think it's just for the amusement," Draco told the Boy-Who-Lived-But-Was-Now-Really-Wet.

"I'm glad that I can provide you with a source of entertainment," said Harry scathingly, but there was laughter in his emerald eyes as he climbed out of the tank.

Draco smirked as the bedraggled Seeker climbed out of the water, shivering as the biting wind pierced the wet uniform.

"You look like a drowned pumpkin Potter," Draco said. "Orange really isn't your color."

"Maybe you should have bought a different team then," said Harry, sitting back on the edge of the platform in case another child would like to dunk the savior of the wizarding world.

"Not my team-," Draco began.

"I know, I know," said Harry. "It's an international team; you ca-Ginny? No, come on Ginny, I'm cold enough as it is."

Ginny had come over and had picked up the beater's bat, her intent perfectly clear.

"Gin, come on," whined Harry. Draco smirked again as the bludger appeared hovering in mid-air. Ginny hit it with a well-practiced swing – Fred and George must have taught her – and sent the ball dead center on the target.

The platform underneath Harry dropped and he was sent SPLASH into the large tank of water below. The tank had a glass window so that Draco could see the Quidditch player submerged in the neck deep water. Harry surfaced, shaking his head like a dog and sending droplets flying from his jet-black locks. He climbed up the ladder as he spluttered and glared at the red-headed witch who had the gall to laugh at him. Draco snorted as well, and Harry turned to glare at him too, though his glare wasn't in the least bit frightening, but then his emerald eyes focused on something behind Draco.

Draco sensed movement and started to whip around but strong hands caught his wrists and a pair of burly arms snaked under his arms and clenched around his torso, lifting him into the air. On instinct Draco ducked and twisted to the left, nearly dislodging his assailants, but then a grinning man with spiky brown hair in an orange uniform grabbed his feet and Draco was at the mercy of 'his' Quidditch team.

"Quick, haul him up to the platform," said a mischievous voice that belonged to the man with his arms wrapped around his chest. It was Rick Bradbury, one of the beaters, who was as large as Crabbe Sr., only instead of fat, he was all muscle.

"Bradbury, I swear I'll fire you," Draco threatened as the players started hauling him to the water tank. He struggled with his captors, but there were six of them and they were all in perfect shape from training. "Wood, I'll send you back Denson!" Draco yelled at the man holding his feet.

"Rick, shut him up will ya?" Oliver asked Bradbury and one of the arms around his torso moved to his face and a gloved hand clamped over his mouth.

Draco still fought to get free, only he was pretty much resigned to his fate. Over the delighted shouts and laughs of the team he could hear Ginny's musical laughter and Harry's snickers. He was carried up the steps to the tank and onto the deck area.

"Get ready, Ginny!" Oliver hollered. "Alright, we set him down on three. One, two, THREE!" They sat him down on the platform, Bradbury holding his upper arms to keep him on the ledge and Ginny hit the bludger. The platform dropped and Draco plunged into the water.

The cold was a jolt to his system and he nearly sucked in a breath in surprise, but he suppressed the urge. His plummet took him straight to the bottom and he pushed of the floor of the tank, glad that the water was only neck deep because if it was any deeper, he would have to strip off his heavy coat and kick off his shoes in order to reach the top. His head broke surface and he gratefully took a breath of the cold air.

He glared at the team who were doubled over with loud guffaws and gleeful chuckles, but they were laughing so hard they were practically crying and they couldn't see the death glare he shot them, which really was too bad as he had been practicing that glare for the six years he had been away and it was truly frightening and he had been saving it for a moment like this.

He sighed and began to climb up the ladder, hindered by his coat. Once he reached the top, he stripped it off, leaving him in a casual royal blue shirt and a pair of khaki pants. He refrained from shaking his hair out like Potter had done, but did run his hand through it to get the access moisture out.

"Hey Draco, blue's a good color for you," said Harry in a mock of Draco's earlier taunt. "And I don't mean the shirt."

Draco knew what he meant. It was a curse of the Malfoy pale skin; whenever they were in the least bit chilled their skin took on a bluish hue. And because he had just been dropped in a vat of ice-cold water, he figured he was looking very hypothermic at the moment.

Harry joined him as he walked down the steps with as much dignity as he could muster. They both stopped when they reached the ground and saw Ginny in hysterics, tears falling from her eyes as she fought to catch her breath from her laughter.

Draco and Harry exchanged a look, and then on one accord, took off for the woman who had dunked them both. She didn't even have time to run. Draco grabbed her hands and Harry grabbed her ankles and they hoisted her into the air.

"Harry, don't," she managed through her laughs. "Don't you even dare. I'll sick Ron on you."

"He would agree with me," said Harry, unmoved by her threats.

"Malfoy put me down. I swear I'll quit. I'll get Shelia to switch your coffee to decaf."

"I can taste the difference," said Draco. "Although, if you beg for our forgiveness, we'll consider letting you go."

"Never," said Ginny, laughing.

"Fine," said Draco and Harry together and they carried her up the steps.

"On three," said Harry. "One." They swung her over the water. "Two." They swung her again. "Three!" They swung her out and dropped her. She fell with a shriek and came up spluttering with indignation.

"It's cold, isn't it?" asked Draco. "Don't you feel bad dunking both of us?"

"Actually," said Ginny treading water as she was a good head shorter that he was and couldn't reach the bottom, "I'm finding it very refreshing."

"Are you now?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," said Ginny. "I was rather hot; I felt like I was standing on a tropical beach I was so warm. You know, with the white sands and roasting hot sun. I was practically sweating."

"Then I suppose that sound I am hearing is Caribbean maracas playing in the background and not your teeth chattering?" Draco asked, smirking.

"Yes, maracas," said Ginny, raising her chin haughtily.

"Come on Weasley," said Draco, ending the charade because he knew Ginny's pride would keep her in there all night if they kept this up. "Get out before you catch cold."

"I'm not the one with the blue lips," said Ginny, though she did start up the ladder.

"Are my lips really blue?" Draco asked Harry.

"More of a purple," said Harry.

Draco grimaced; he hated looking disheveled. His business manager joined them at the top and he cast a quick drying charm on her, then himself, although with a soaking like that they were still left a little damp.

"Well, I'm going to head home," said Draco, turning to Harry.

"See you Tuesday, right?" Harry asked.

"Tuesday," Draco agreed. They shook hands and Draco turned to the rest of the team. "I should lower your pay after that," he told them, but there was a slight smile playing at his lips that he couldn't quite smother.

They laughed and said their goodbyes, which Draco returned. He then turned to Ginny. "You're coming over for dinner and a hot shower," he told her. "Pansy would have my head if you got sick."

"Just make sure that she showers alone, alright Malfoy?" said Harry, giving them a wink full of a connotation that made Ginny blush scarlet, but than she waved her wand and Harry was knocked back into the tank by an invisible force. Draco laughed and the two Disapparated to Malfoy Estate.

------------------------------------------------

Ughhhhhh. Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I couldn't get anything in this chapter to go right, and I have papers, and my roommates are bugging the CRAP out of me. I swear, if I have to hear her go on one more time about her boy problems, I'll….GAH!

Sorry (ducks head in shame). Anyways, please review. It'll make me feel better.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would have a professional piano player teach me to play. Every day. For the rest of my life. So I could play amazingly well and astound people. Lol

IMPORTANT NOTICE: so I deleted the second chapter, the one that only held the disclaimer for chapter 1, becasue I figure, I don't need it anymore, so now all the chapters are one off from what they used to be, but the disclaimer for chapter one still holds, I do not own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it

Alexandria J Malfoy- glad you like it and found it funny

Rema-hmmm, empty broom closet, now that's an idea, lol I love your reviews, thanks

Wizzabee-sorry its taken awhile, but I went home for fall break, and had zero time

DCod- thank you so much, I also enjoy the bantering b/t Harry and Draco

---------------------------------------------------------

"Damn it!" Draco practically screamed. He whirled around, phone in hand, and sent it hurtling towards the wall. There was such force behind his throw that the cord jerked straight out of the phone jack and joined the receiver and cradle to its impromptu death at the mercy of a white plaster wall.

Draco stared at the shattered remains of his telephone, stormed over to his door, and threw it open. It crashed into the wall, bounced back and struck him on the back of the head. He swore again, in French this time, and turned to round on his secretary.

"Shells, get maintenance up here. My phone won't work." His tone was perhaps a bit too harsh; she hadn't done anything.

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "That tends to happen when you throw it against the wall," she said in a warning tone that clearly meant 'I'm not in the mood for one of your temper tantrums Draco, so don't even start with me'. For some reason that just seemed to infuriate Draco even more, but he knew better than to mess with Shelia when she had that tone of voice, so he settled for slamming the door. He threw himself into his chair and stared up at the ceiling, tugging at his hair all the while.

It was Tuesday, Tuesday right before noon. In eight hours it would be seven and Draco would have to go to the Burrow for a family dinner. He had been looking forward to the get-together until yesterday when the English economy had gone to hell and had packed the entire wizarding community in a hand basket and taken them along with it. Now he was being hounded by the press and fielding questions from reporters and Ministry officials who were all wondering what the hell was going on. Draco had a frustrated urge to tell them that once he had figured out how to open up the basket, he would be able to take a look around and let them know.

His door swung open and he glared at Ginny who had barged in.

"Damn it, Malfoy," she said, "some of us are trying to work, so would you keep your voice down and stop slamming your bloody door?"

"I'll slam my bloody door if I bloody well feel like it," he shot back, angry and lashing out.

"Fine," she said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "I just won't be able to hear what the people on the other end of the line are saying and I won't be able to tell you that you have an appointment at six-thirty today with the head of St. Mungo's Hospital to thank you for your support and to suggest additional funding."

She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her, obviously not wanting to deal with him while he was in this funk. Draco noted in annoyance that she slammed the door louder than he did. He sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling and tugging at his hair, only this time he spun around in slow circles as he did so, trying to clear his mind.

It wasn't the fact that the economy had dropped that set him off; it was the fact that it had dropped a point yesterday and another point today. That's two points, _two_ points. He had expected a drop; it was natural for a recovering economy to swoop slightly, but two points was bloody ridiculous. He had expected a drop of .4 points. He had planned for a decrease of .8 just to be on the safe side. He had miscalculated the drop, which meant he had made an error, and the economy was down by two, which meant he had done something wrong. But what?

He groaned in frustration and searched for another phone to throw.

The door opened again and Ginny practically ran in.

"Hermione's having her baby; she's at St.Mungo's right now. Look, I know you said no time off unless I schedule it, but could I please go be with her. There's really nothing for me to do for this week anyway, I have it all planned out, the itinerary's on my desk and all ready to go. So can I please take the rest of the day off?" she asked, all in one breath.

"The rest of the day off?" Draco asked, incredulous. "It's eleven in the morning."

"I know," said Ginny, "but I'm practically done for this week."

"What about next week? And what about that Remmingten Company? Did you finish that?" Draco asked.

"Well, no," said Ginny, coloring slightly. "But I have to be there. She's two weeks early and she had such trouble last time it scared us all. Please, can I go? I'll come back as soon as the baby is born and we know everyone is going to be alright."

"And that could take the rest of the day," said Draco. "And what are you going to do there? Sit in a waiting room with nothing to do and they won't even let you back to see her."

"She's my sister," said Ginny simply.

"In law," Draco finished. He sighed and buried his head in his hands. "I want to have a rough schedule of next week's meetings drawn up," he said finally. "But as long as I have it in my email account by six this evening, I don't care where you do it."

Ginny gave an excited little hop. "Thank you so much, Draco," she said. "I swear I'll have it done by five." She literally ran to the door, but then stopped. "Oh, the family dinner is cancelled because of recent events and thank you again."

She left, this time closing the door nicely behind her. Draco let his head drop onto his desk feeling, for some reason he couldn't fathom, very alone.

The day seemed to drag by without Ginny there. He attended his meetings by himself, missing the snide little comments she would mutter under her breath and the way her fun personality always seemed to make those boring conferences a little more enjoyable. The economy slipped another .3 points making Draco bang his head repeatedly on his desk. At five o'clock he checked his email and discovered the itinerary along with a side note of Ginny's.

**Draco,**

**Here's the schedule for next week and thank you again for letting me off, I know that things must be hectic with the failing economy and all. Things here aren't going so well either. Hermione's been in labor for six hours and nothing has happened yet, but then again the Healer's reassure us that sometimes these things just take a while. Well, I should probably go now as we are about to scope out the cafeteria for dinner, but who knows if it is edible or not. I may have to run out for food later tonight. I hope that all of your meetings have gone well today and I will see you tomorrow morning for work.**

**Ginny**

Draco glanced at the clock and then flipped through the phone book. Once he had found the right number he picked up the new phone maintenance had installed while he was in a meeting and dialed.

-----------------------------------------------

At precisely six-thirty he flooed to the Head of St. Mungo's Office and met the skinny man with a smile and a firm handshake. They went through the niceties and polite conversation starters and then finally onto business. St. Mungo's was failing. It was the only hospital in the area, but as people could no longer afford to pay for the hospital, fewer and fewer people came. The hospital was forced to cut most of its staff, and the building was falling under disrepair and now only sections of the once grand building were useable. The benefactor who would help them fix the hospital would have a new wing named after them. This wing would primarily deal with those suffering from dark curses or those who had post-traumatic stress disorder from the war. Draco signed the paper then pulled his laptop out of his briefcase case and sent an email to Gringotts telling them he would be there in the morning to transfer a large amount of money from his private vault into his company funds. He then promised the man that an advance of 500 galleons would be on his desk tomorrow and that he hoped St. Mungo's would use New Foundation's Construction for the repairs. The head assured him that they would and Draco left, but not by Floo.

He headed to the delivery wing, noticing that the hospital really could use the funding as many halls were deserted and the rooms branching off were dark and the doors were locked. He had to stop and consult a map to find out exactly where delivery was because all of the sectors had been halved in size and shoved together haphazardly. He noticed with a frown that delivery was just a single room right off of the main waiting lobby and headed down three flights of stairs to the lounge area.

He could hear them before he could see them; in fact, he could hear them an entire floor up. It sounded as if the entire Weasley family was present, which he suspected it might be. He was suddenly nervous and he paused in front of the door, listening to the voices as his stomach twisted inside of him. He took a steadying breath, gripped his briefcase in a tighter than necessary hold, and pushed open the door.

The entire Weasley family was there, along with some people Draco did not know in the least, but Snape was there, as was Harry and Blaise. He came in unnoticed as the group was too wrapped up in whatever Ginny was saying. She was in a chair, and the others in chairs or couches in a circle around her. It was an odd mismatched plethora of furniture, and Draco vaguely wondered if he should be a sport and chip in and get the hospital new chairs as well so that it wouldn't be such an eyesore.

"So then the Quidditch team got Draco on the platform," Ginny was saying, "and I dunked him as well."

"You didn't!" said several voices.

"My idea," said Harry, rather smugly.

"Was it now, Potter?" Draco drawled out. The entire circle jumped and heads snapped in his direction.

"Oh, hello Draco," said Harry, squirming under Draco's rehearsed death glare. Draco inwardly smirked then turned to Ginny.

"Any particular reason we are having this discussion?" he asked.

Ginny handed him a paper from a few days ago. On it was a picture of him and Harry, soaking wet and walking down the stairs of the tank. The second was of them throwing Ginny into the water. The caption read "Post-Carnival Pastimes". He turned his glare on the paper and then realized it probably wouldn't affect inanimate objects.

"Thank you for the dinner Drake," said Blaise speaking up.

"What dinner?" asked Draco.

Blaise grinned at his friend. "The one that was catered to us about an hour ago. See, the hospital doesn't allow outside food, but in this case they made an exception, so I figured that the only person they would make an exception for is one that they are courting for more financial support, and that would be you. Besides, you're the only one that can afford to hire Rinaldi's Catering Services."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You could too," he said.

"But I risked my health and ate at the café right before the food came. Why on earth would I eat right before I ordered a catering service? So thanks. It was nice."

He had a point. No man would eat hospital food when catering would arrive in half an hour, not even if they were trying to fool people into thinking they didn't know it was coming.

"Don't mention it," Draco said, then changed the subject. "Where's Pansy?"

"She's back at the house with the kids."

"Oh," said Draco. Blaise moved over on the couch he was hogging all by himself and Draco pulled off his coat and sat next to him, dumping his coat and his laptop on the floor next to the sofa.

"Along with Hermione's kids," said Blaise. Draco shot him a look. "She's babysitting," Blaise explained. "For Hermione, and also for Faye, and Fleur, and Penny."

Draco stared at him. "At my house," he said, his brain trying to grasp that fact.

"Well, yes," said Blaise. "But it's not like you live there or anything. You're always at your office."

"How many kids are at my house?" asked Draco.

"Including mine? Eleven."

Draco's mask slid up as it always did when he didn't know how to respond. Blaise noticed and decided to change the topic.

"But you don't know everyone here," said Blaise. "Alright, to my left is Mrs. Weasley, but you know her." Draco nodded to the woman who looked exactly the same from the last time he saw her except that her hair was streaked with white. But her brown eyes were still as warm as ever and she even had a smile for Draco, which was surprising considering as his father had killed her husband.

"Next to her is Charlie Weasley. Charlie works with dragons."

"You were one of the dragon trainers that came fourth year," said Draco, recognizing the stocky red-head who had inherited his mother's welcoming eyes.

"Yep," said Charlie, who also smiled. Again, a surprise, but he quickly noted that none around the circle seemed to be looking at him with hostile intent. "I like your name."

Draco actually smiled at that, a small smile, but it was still a smile.

"And this is my wife Faye," said Charlie, giving the woman next to him an adoring look. She looked part faerie, like her name implied, with dark brown curling hair, perfectly tan skin and wild, exotic lavender eyes.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, smiling as well, and Draco detected a trace of Irish accent in her voice which proved his suspicion.

"Charlie and Faye have two children, Gabriella and Michael. They're twins and are seven years old," said Blaise, continuing the commentary. "Next to him are Fred and George, you already know them."

"Doesn't mean we're not important," said Fred.

"Absolutely not," said George, nodding his head in agreement.

"Would you like a piece of candy Draco?" asked Fred.

"You looked half starved," said George holding out a blue sweet.

"Exactly how stupid do you think I am?" asked Draco, earning laughs from the crowd. "But I do need to talk to you later about you producing that capture the flag game. It was a hit."

"Knew it would be," said Fred.

"Of course we knew it," said George, putting the candy back into the dish on the table in front of him.

"And next to them is Snape, again you know him."

"Sev," said Draco nodding. His godfather merely raised an eyebrow in response, looking very dark next to all of the red-headed Weasleys.

"And next to him is Harry, and that's Percy Weasley and his wife Penny."

"Delighted to meet you," said Percy, sincerely. Draco remembered him from Hogwarts; he was Head boy once, and he believed that the dark haired woman with the pale blue eyes was once Head girl, but he couldn't be sure.

"Percy and Penny have Emeric who is eight. And next to him are Bill and Fleur, who have three kids, Gavin who is seven, Alette who is six and Helena who is four. And next to them is your lovely business manager. I'll give you the cheat sheet when we get back home."

There was laughter at this remark and Draco kept running over the names in his head hoping to keep them all straight.

"Why are you here?" asked Charlie curiously.

"Had a meeting with Fenway," said Draco. "Then I figured I'd stop by and see how everyone was doing. How's Hermione?"

"Still nothing yet," said Penny. "They had her walking the halls a while ago."

"I had to walk when I had the twins," said Faye. "But I got to walk in the mall, much more entertaining and it took my mind off the pain."

Fleur shook her head. "I wouldn't want that," she said, her accent much lighter than her Hogwarts days. "I would be looking at all the things I want but wouldn't be able to fit into."

"That's true," said Penny. "It took me four months to get all the weight off from Emeric."

"I think I still have some from Amandine," said Pansy coming in the room. She spotted Draco. "Oh, good, you're here. I wanted to warn you that you have more guests at the estate."

"So I hear," said Draco, returning the hug she gave him. She then sat in between Draco and Blaise, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, all the children are down for the night, except Emeric who is doing some reading. I swear Penny, that boy has an attitude."

"He gets it from his uncles," said Percy glaring at the twins.

"Not our fault he's not a prig like you," said Fred cheerfully.

"You realize that if you were a rebel type, he would be completely by the rules, just to annoy you?" asked George.

"That's the way kids are," said Fred sagely.

"The exact opposite you want them to be," said George wisely.

"I wouldn't say that," said Faye. "I love my angels."

"Wait 'til they reach their teens," said Mrs. Weasley, a good-humored warning in her voice.

"Hey," exclaimed half of the group.

"We weren't that bad, mum," said Bill.

"We could have been worse," said Charlie.

"Yeah, we could have run off and joined a circus," said Percy.

The other Weasley children present turned to look at their brother in disgust.

"'Joined a circus'?" Fred asked, incredulous.

"Is that the best you can come up with?" George asked in revulsion.

"It was pretty lame Perc," said Bill.

"You could have said, 'Run off and joined a traveling band of squirrels' and it would have been better than the circus example," said Charlie.

"You should have said something like 'We could have run off and slept around with a bunch of different girls and ended up impregnating six of them'," said Ginny. "Although in my case it would be getting in the sack with six different guys and ending up pregnant and then having to do an identity charm because I don't know who the father is."

The women laughed while the red-headed men present focused their attention on their little sister.

"Gin, where did you get that skirt?" asked Fred, narrowing his eyes as he took in his sister's appearance. Ginny was wearing a white knee length skirt and a form fitting black button up shirt with white accents. Her shoes were kicked off and the top two buttons of the shirt were undone. Draco thought she looked modest and yet incredibly sexy at the same time.

"Don't you think it's a little short?" asked George.

"Here they go in their protective mode again," Ginny sighed to Pansy, and as Draco was in between them, he picked up on it.

"It may be better to button your shirt up as well," said Fred.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Ginny. "I'm not even showing cleavage!"

Draco quickly started mentally listing the ingredients needed for Veritaserum and began brewing the potion in his head to get the image of Ginny with her shirt unbuttoned to an extreme point out of his head.

"What?" choked out Fred.

"The fact that you would even think about that is, is,…Mum, tell her she's too young," said George.

"She's a woman now, boys," said Mrs. Weasley. "And there is nothing wrong with the way she dresses." It was obvious she was trying not to laugh.

"Harry, do you think of Ginny in an inappropriate way when she's dressed the way she is right now?" asked Fred.

"Why do you always ask me?" Harry complained, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Because you're the only young, unattached male here," said George.

"No he's not," Charlie pointed out. It seemed that he and Bill were quite fine with their independent little sister.

The twins turned to Draco.

"Well, Malfoy, let's here it," said Fred.

"Do you, Ferret-boy, think bad thoughts when you look at Ginny because of how she dresses?" asked George.

"I'm afraid that I am unable to answer that question," said Draco calmly as all eyes fastened on his face.

"And why is that?" asked Fred dangerously.

"Yes, do tell," said George in the same tone.

Draco cocked his head slightly to the side. "If I did admit to think inappropriate thoughts because of the way your sister dresses, I would no doubt be cursed until next Sunday by the avenging members of your family. While that may appease your anger, it would only insure that Ginevra would not feel in the least bit persuaded to dress any differently. In fact, she may dress in a manner even more inappropriate by your standards merely to prove that she does not need you to look after her. If I told you that, no, I do not think of Ginevra in a lascivious manner because of how she dresses, you would not believe me and immediately think that I am lying to cover up for myself, and Ginny would still dress the way she does.

"And there is also another reason to why I cannot answer the question and that is because I am her employer and that question is unseemly for me to respond to in any way. We have a smooth, professional relationship and I refuse to answer as it may jeopardize our association."

There was silence when he finished, followed by applause from everyone except Fred and George.

"Nice," said Bill. "That is the smoothest I have ever seen anyone get out of that."

"Very impressive," said Charlie.

"Good way of covering your arse," said Faye in approval.

"Very tactful," said Mrs. Weasley.

Draco allowed himself to relax slightly; it seemed as if he had past the first pop test with flying colors. Yelling from down the hall caught everyone's attention.

"DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TO BE CALM, RONALD WEASLEY. YOU HAVE NOT BEEN IN LABOR FOR THE PAST EIGHT HOURS!"

"Mione, I'm sorry," came Ron's voice. It was apparent the door was open.

"You had better be sorry! It's your damn fault I'm laying here with a stomach the size of a watermelon with a baby coming out my arse!" yelled Hermione. "You just leave if I look so bad!"

There was the sound of a calming voice, and then a door shutting, and then a pale, disheveled Ron Weasley trudged into the room.

"What happened?" asked Mrs. Weasley, concerned.

"She said that she probably looked like hell, and I said she did look pretty tired, and she blew up at me," said Ron wearily. "We are never having another kid again."

"You should have told her she had never looked more beautiful," said Faye.

"She told me before she didn't want any of that crap," said Ron.

"She was just saying that," said Fleur.

"Do you want me to go in and check on her?" asked Snape, speaking up for the first time since Draco had entered the room. Draco was surprised to note that there was actually concern in his godfather's voice.

"Would you?" asked Ron. "That would be brilliant. Thanks, Snape."

Sev gave a nod and swept out of the room. Ron collapsed on an empty chair next to his mother who reached out and pulled him into an embrace. Ron nearly broke down and Draco felt distinctly uncomfortable watching the display of affection.

"I just don't want to lose her," Ron mumbled into his mother's shoulder. "Last time, when she nearly died, I-I…," he trailed off as Mrs. Weasley shushed him.

"Shh, baby. She's going to be fine. Severus is with her now to make sure everything is all right. Last time was so close because Zak was so early and because Hermione was so sick. She's going to pull through this just fine."

"Yeah, she's too smart to kick the bucket," said Fred.

"But then again, we thought she was too smart to marry him," said George.

Ron gave a strangled laugh and pulled away from his mother, wiping his eyes roughly. He gazed around the circle and his gaze rested on Draco.

"Malfoy," he said. Immediately the room fell silent as even those who didn't know of the bad blood between Ron and Draco could tell that these two were not old friends.

"Ron," said Draco, nodding his head at his ex-enemy. "I hear you've got a job at the Ministry. Head of Tactics for the Aurors, very impressive."

Ron studied Draco for a moment, recognizing Draco's compliment for what it was, an apology and now he had to decide what to do with it.

"Thanks," said Ron and Draco nodded at him again, recognizing that the apoplogy was accepted. It was a testimony to how stressed out and tired Ron was that he reached for a piece of candy in the dish on the table right in front of George. He had put it in his mouth before anyone had a chance to stop him.

"Ron," groaned Ginny. "Fred, George, what does it do?"

"You'll see," said Fred, grinning evilly, his twin wearing the exact same expression.

"What?" asked Ron, noticing everyone staring at him. He swallowed the confection. "What? What is going on?" he asked again, but what came out of his mouth was "Was? Auf was geht?"

They stared at him, then rounded on Fred and George.

"Fred, George, what did you do to your brother?" Mrs. Weasley demanded in a voice that demanded strict obedience.

"Translator Toffees," said Fred.

"Our newest product," said George.

"They're really quite innovative."

"They can be used for pranks and at the office."

"Say you have a client in France, but you don't speak French, simply eat a toffee, the blue one because that's the French one, and you can converse with them."

"The only set back is you start thinking in the other language as well, so you don't understand what the people who speak your language are saying."

"Fred, George, change him back. He's panicking," said Mrs. Weasley. "His wife is in labor and you pull this on him?"

"He was the one that took it," said Fred.

"You can change him back, can't you?" asked Ginny as she watched Ron staring madly around the room shouting "Konnen Sie mich horen?" _Can you hear me?_

"Course," said Fred.

"We just have to know what color he took," said George.

"So we know what language he's speaking," said Fred.

"So we can change him back."

"Because if we give him the wrong one, well-,"

"We don't know what would happen," George finished.

"Does anyone know what color he took?" asked Fred.

Draco hadn't noticed; neither had anyone else.

"It sounds like Russian, maybe?" asked Penny.

"Then it'd be yellow," said George, reaching for a yellow toffee.

"It's German," said Draco.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"German?" asked Charlie. "You sure?"

Draco turned to Ron. "Konnen Sie mich verstehen?" he asked. _Can you understand me?_

"Ja!" exclaimed Ron. _Yes._ "Was ist geschehen?" _What happened?_

"Sie sprechen Deutsch," said Draco. _You are speaking German._ He turned to the group. "It's German," he confirmed. George gave his brother a green toffee.

"You speak German?" asked Bill.

"I speak English too," said Draco. There were a few confused looks.

"Draco's first language is French," Ginny explained.

"Really?" asked Fleur, and immediately jumped into a tirade of French. Draco smirked and responded just as quickly.

"What'd they say?" asked Faye.

"Talking about where they grew up," said Ginny, following their conversation. "Speak any other languages Draco?"

"I'm also fluent in Spanish and Italian, I can get by in Russian and I know a bit of Dutch," said Draco.

"So many?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I had a tutor," said Draco.

"He had eight tutors," said Blaise. He leaned in conspiratorially and said in a mock whisper, "It's because he's a little slow."

"Thank you for that Blaise," said Draco, glaring at his friend who ducked behind Pansy.

"What would you need with tutors though?" asked Charlie. "You went to Hogwarts, didn't you?"

"Well, Narcissa didn't want to deal with me, so she hired a bunch of tutors to keep me occupied," said Draco shrugging.

"That's horrible," said Penny.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It is?" he asked. "What did all of you do before school?"

"Mum taught us to read and write and basic sums," said Ginny. "And we had a few chores to do and we just goofed off."

"Basically," agreed Bill.

"Same here," said Fleur.

"I cleaned," said Harry brightly from his chair. Everyone laughed, except Draco who frowned. "I lived with my Muggle relatives," Harry explained. "And they hated me because I was a wizard so they had me clean stuff a lot to try to keep the magic from manifesting in me."

Draco stared at him. "Seriously?" he asked. "I always pictured you being taken care of by Dumbledore or McGonagall or someone."

"Nope," said Harry, "just me and my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin Dudley who used to enjoy beating me up. But that stopped when I found out I was a wizard when I got the Hogwarts letter."

"You didn't know you were a wizard?" asked Draco.

"Nope," said Harry. "You could say it was a shock."

"_You_ could," said Blaise. "I'd find it down right terrifying."

"I remember the first time I saw you," said Mrs. Weasley. "You didn't know how to get on Platform 9 and three-quarters."

"I remember that," said Harry. "I was so afraid I would miss the train. And that's where I met Ron."

"And you bought half of the sweet cart," said Ron, who was speaking English once again.

"Good times," said Harry, staring off into space, obviously recollecting their Hogwarts days.

"Bloody sentimental Gryffindor," Draco muttered, but so Harry could hear.

"Hey, we're all Gryffindors here," said Bill. "Well, most of us, so you'd better watch yourself."

"Like you could take a Slytherin?" Draco challenged good-naturedly.

"Bunch of back-stabbing snakes the lot of you," said Bill, also in light tones.

"Well, that's true," Draco conceded.

"Hey, I was nearly put in Slytherin," Harry reminded Bill.

"You were nearly put in Slytherin?" Draco asked, taken off-guard.

"Yeah, the Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I asked it not to," said Harry.

Draco stared at him. "You asked not to? What the bloody hell was wrong with you?"

"Well, Ron sort of made a generalization that all the wizards in Slytherin turned out bad," Harry said shrugging.

"Not all of us," said Draco indignantly.

"Most of us though," said Blaise. "I mean look at who was in our year. Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint, and Voldemort was in Slytherin. So was your father."

Draco flinched at the reference to his father and then noticed that the entire Weasley family had glanced at him when Lucius was mentioned and had noticed his reaction.

"Next topic please," he said.

"That article was true, wasn't it?" asked Mrs. Weasley softly. "The one that came out after the war. 'Shocking Revelations of the Malfoy Heir and his Childhood', wasn't it?"

Draco froze; he remembered that article that had appeared in the special edition Daily Prophet that was based solely on him. Most people had disregarded the section that spoke of an abusive father as merely sensational news. The thing was, most of it was true if understated, but of course he had written the newspaper an angry letter and the Daily Prophet had written a retraction. There were some things that Draco did not want publicized, some things were meant to be secret.

"I didn't read it," said Draco coldly, his mask firmly in place with a sneer beginning to affix itself on his lips. "So I wouldn't know." He knew he looked and sounded exactly like Lucius right then, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't want them to know; he didn't want to think about it. When he thought about it, it just became too real, and now his mind was betraying him, dragging up memory after memory of his father and pain. He shook his head roughly to clear it.

"It said that Lucius mistreated you," Mrs. Weasley continued. "He did, didn't he?"

Draco found he couldn't answer; the scornful words he wanted to say to dismiss the notion stuck in his throat and the smirk that slid so easily on his face was gone, leaving his jaw clenched. His grey eyes were no longer ice, but pools of water holding the dark recollections of tormented childhood in which he found himself slowly drowning. He didn't hear Pansy calling his name, worry making her voice tight. He didn't see her reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder until he felt the touch. In his mind it was Lucius, clamping a hand on his shoulder and roughly spinning him around in order to backhand him across the face.

He recoiled, shrinking back to the corner of the couch and throwing up a hand to block the blow, but there was no Lucius, only Pansy with her worried blue eyes, Pansy and a room of Gryffindors who were now staring at him in shock and horror.

"Merlin," breathed Mrs. Weasley.

Draco did the worst thing possible, the one thing that would forever undermine any attempts he would ever make to deny the allegations. He snarled and in one fluid, graceful motion was off of the couch and heading for the door, ignoring Blaise's shout of "Drake!" He was running.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

(grins sheepishly)

I'm sorry, I suppose that's a rather mean place to end it, but while I was writing it, I realized it was going long and I decided that this was a good place to stop. If it bugs you, review and I'll update sooner, lol. Yay for bribery.

Oh, and I don't speak German, I got all of the translations on line so I don't know how accurate they are


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would hire _two_ people to do my homework for me, so I would never have to do it ever again. Yes, two people because I have so many freakin' papers it's insane and there is no way one person could do it all on their own. (Well, if I didn't procrastinate...but still, it's a lot of work).

IMPORTANT NOTICE: If you are looking at this chapter, and you don't remember the words in italics, it means you haven't read chapter 17. Well, that is, the new chapter 17, because I went back and deleted chapter 2, you know, the chapter that originally just held the disclaimer for chapter 1 (which still stands, by the way). But now, every chapter has been pushed back one. Just to clear things up. So if you don't remember the words in italics, read chapter 17. Again. Because it's not _really_ chapter 17. Confused yet?

Thanks to boogah, Liz and ranneh and to Tulips and Jill, ice faerie, and MnM1803, and my sincerest apologies it took so long to up date.

Did you get that? I'm sorry it took so long, please don't be angry, this darn chapter just wouldn't write and the stupid teachers have given me too much homework and I have to give a speech on Tuesday….ewwww. So yeah. Here it is. Enjoy.

-----------------------------------------------------------

_Draco did the worst thing possible, the one thing that would forever undermine any attempts he would ever make to deny the allegations. He snarled and in one fluid, graceful motion was off of the couch and heading for the door, ignoring Blaise's shout of "Drake!" He was running. _ But his path had him run straight into Snape who was returning from Hermione's room.

His godfather halted his flight with pale hands on his shoulders. Sev's black eyes took in the open-mouthed group in the circle and then Draco's clenched jaw and melted grey eyes in one sweeping gaze.

"Deep breaths, Draco," said Snape softly so only Draco could hear. "You are a Malfoy; you do not run."

Draco shook his head. "The article," he whispered back, not meeting his godfather's intense stare. "They know." The Potions Master understood in an instant.

"It doesn't make any difference," said Sev. "You can't keep it buried forever."

"I don't want their pity."

"Then show them you don't need it," said Snape. "Look at me, Draco." Draco dragged his eyes to Sev's and saw only pride and affection mirrored there. Pride and affection for him, and he took a deep breath, ridding his face of any stray emotions.

"Are you calm again?" asked Snape.

Draco slipped his mask back up and nodded.

"Good," said Snape, and then loudly so he was addressing the group, "The media tends to exaggerate for more sensational stories," he said smoothly, turning Draco around and pushing him in the direction of the couch. Draco took his seat, sprawling out slightly to show he didn't care, and lifting his chin, daring anyone to meet his gaze. They didn't look at him.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape continued, "your wife is perfectly fine; it just seems that this is going to be a rather long labor. You may go see her now."

Ron nodded and practically ran down the hall to his wife. Snape crossed through the circle, his robes billowing out as usual and reclaimed his seat next to Harry. For a few moments no-one spoke though the entire circle started sneaking quick glances at him. There was an uncomfortable silence broken by Draco's cell phone ringing.

He left the circle and walked to the corner of the room, flipping open the phone. "Malfoy," he said into the mouthpiece. He listened to the trembling voice for a minute, feeling all of his frustration and anger threatening to make him snap and go crazy. He hung up and returned to the circle, his fingers aching to chuck the phone at a wall and watch it shatter. He knew from experience that it was a great relief. Instead he ran a hand through his hair and started tugging.

"Bad news?" asked Harry.

"You could say that. We're down another .4 points," said Draco.

"That means nothing to us," said Harry. "What language are you speaking now?"

"Economist," said Bill. "He's talking about the economy. It's on a point system. The system considers factors such as employment rates, pay rates, how much debt the average family is in, how much debt the businesses are in, how much trade is happening and so on."

"Is .4 big?" asked Faye.

"Yeah," said Draco. "Normal fluctuations are any where between .05 and .1 points, .4 is quadruple that." He sighed, muttered 'damnit', and continued pulling at his hair, but a small hand caught his.

"Stop that," said Ginny. "You'll pull your hair out."

He sighed again, but let his hands drop. Then he stood. "I'm going to go find some coffee," he said, making his way to the door.

"I'll come too," said Ginny.

He didn't know why, but he waited for her as she found her shoes and then joined him. She, having been to the café, knew where it was and she led the way.

"The dinner was nice," she said. "Thank you."

He shrugged and they entered the large, white and blue cafeteria that was completely empty. There were a few large coffee and hot water tanks and some sandwiches and pre wrapped cookies lying on a buffet table while the three others lay empty. Draco went straight to the coffee, put a few coins in the cup dispenser, grabbed the cup that came up, and filled it to the brim with the caffienated beverage. He sat at one of the empty tables and watched Ginny stir a hot chocolate mix into the hot water she had in her own cup. She joined him, sipping on her drink and wincing.

"Burnt my tongue," she said, settling back into the chair and fastening her bright eyes on his face.

He didn't respond, but took a sip of his own. It was hot and awful, but it was disgustingly strong so he took a larger gulp.

"You want to talk about it?" Ginny asked.

"About what?" he retorted, knowing full well what she meant.

"About what happened in the waiting room."

"Nothing happened in the waiting room," said Draco.

"Alright, what happened when Pansy touched you? Is it normal to react like she was about to punch you?"

"I was startled," said Draco.

"Right," said Ginny. "Why did you run then?"

There was no way he could brush that off so he settled for an offensive tactic. "I don't want your pity."

"You have my sympathy," she countered.

"Same thing," said Draco, and then he frowned. "We've had this conversation before."

"Only this time I'm going to tell you exactly what the difference between pity and sympathy is," said Ginny. "Pity is what you feel for a bunny caught in a snare, or for a puppy that broke a leg. It's a cutesy shallow emotion where people say 'Awwww, that's so sad' and they don't do a damn thing about it. Sympathy is for people, people who aren't shallow, people who try to feel what the other person is feeling. Sympathy is an understanding of an emotion, and sympathy is where real people step in and try to help that person heal. And that's what I, what we all, feel for you Draco. We're proud that you made it so far, but now, we're going to help you make it the rest of the way."

She was serious; he could see it in her eyes. She meant every word she said and part of Draco wondered if having their sympathy wasn't a bad thing. He didn't answer her, but rather looked down at his coffee and watched the ripples he caused when he squeezed the Styrofoam slightly.

"Your family's really big," he said, changing the topic. She let him.

"Yeah, it can be a little overwhelming at times," Ginny agreed. "And having six older brothers isn't the ideal situation, but I love them anyway."

She got up and retrieved two plastic lids in the container next to the dispenser and handed one to him. He narrowed his eyes as she put the lid on her cup.

"Where are we going?" he asked warily, but putting the lid on his none-the-less.

"Back upstairs," she said. "I've figured we've given them enough time to talk and gossip about you."

He couldn't help but laugh and then followed her up out of the café and back into the waiting room.

They were indeed talking about him. He knew because as soon as he entered all conversation stopped and several of the members flushed guiltily. He shared a smirk with Ginny and then returned to his seat next to Pansy who was looking at him in concern.

"So, Draco," said Charlie, once an awkward silence fell that caused every one but him to squirm. "You're trying to get the economy back up, right?"

Draco grimaced. "Trying being the operative word there," he said. "I think I'm just making things worse."

"How worse?" asked Bill, who, it seemed, had an actual working knowledge of economics.

"Is it possible to get a negative score?" asked Draco. "Because if things keep falling the way they are falling, we might be below zero by tomorrow morning."

Bill winced. "That bad?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Draco, taking a gulp of his coffee.

"Maybe it's like a virus," said Mrs. Weasley. "And it has to get worse before it gets better."

"In that case I infected it with the plague and killed it," said Draco dryly. Harry snorted.

"I'm sure you'll straighten it out," said Mrs. Weasley kindly.

"Like he straightens his hair every month," said Blaise cheerfully.

Draco blinked, set his coffee down on a side table, and then slowly turned to stare at his friend who was grinning unashamedly at him behind Pansy.

"Wait, what?" demanded Harry from across the circle.

"You have curly hair?" Ginny asked.

"Malfoy?" sang Fred.

"With curls?" trilled George.

They both got twin mischievous gleams in their eyes as every gaze turned to Draco, who felt his cheeks flush.

"Draco, can I-," Ginny started.

"No," said Draco flatly.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," said Ginny.

"No, you cannot see my hair curly," said Draco. From her pout, he knew that he had hit exactly what she was going to say.

"I have baby pictures," volunteered Snape.

Draco turned to his godfather completely aghast. "You're supposed to be family," he accused.

Severus smirked. "I want a pay raise."

"Draco," said Ginny, "can I please-,"

"No," said Draco. "Why on earth do you need a pay raise?"

"It's not the fact that I need a pay raise, it's more of the fact that I can get one," Severus admitted to the laughter of the circle.

"I can have you fired," said Draco.

Snape shrugged. "I've been planning on retiring for a while now," he said. "Merlin knows I have enough. You, on the other hand, have several cute photos I'm sure the ladies are all dying to see. Now, Molly," he said, addressing the red-haired mother, "do you remember that picture of Charlie you showed me? The one where he is running down the hall with nothing but a nappy on?"

"Mum, you showed him that?" groaned Charlie.

"Well," Severus continued, "I have one of Draco just like that one."

Draco groaned as well and buried his face in his hands.

"How curly is his hair?" asked Faye, obviously amused.

"Loose curls," Blaise chimed in. "The kind you see on cupids."

There was a series of "Awww's" from the women and Fred and George.

"Draco, come on," said Ginny.

"No!" said Draco. He turned to Blaise and Severus. "I can't believe you two. You're a bunch of back-stabbing snakes."

"I plead Slytherin," said Blaise, shrugging. "You admitted yourself that's what we are."

"And I was Slytherin's Head of House," said Snape. "You can't expect me to make allowances."

"I see," said Draco. He then gave a slow smirk. "But you've forgotten that I am Slytherin's Prince, and I give better than I get."

Blaise looked severely disconcerted and Snape frowned. Draco gave them both an innocent smile, picked up his coffee and took a long draught.

"Draco," said Ginny in a sweet voice.

"You are like a thestral that smells blood," said Draco, exasperated. "You just won't let it go, will you?"

"Nope," said Ginny.

"Too bad," said Draco.

"I'll get those baby pictures Snape is talking about and I'll post them all around the office," said Ginny.

Draco turned his gaze up to the heavens, or in this case, the bright ceiling lights. "Why me?" he asked.

"I don't pity you in the least," said Charlie. "Working with her."

"Hey!" said Ginny. Draco snorted. Bad move, she immediately turned her attention back to him. "Come on Draco."

He sighed, pulled out his wand, and tapped his head with it. He could feel his hair spring back to its original curling mass and Ginny squealed.

"Awww," she said, grinning sweetly at him just to annoy him. She reached out a hand and gently ran her fingers through the soft locks. He realized with a start that Pansy was playing with his hair too and he couldn't help but make a face. Harry laughed outright at him, Sev was hiding a smile, the women had that kind of goofy beaming expression they got whenever they spotted a particularly adorable baby, and the men were smirking at his predicament.

"Oooo," said Blaise in an overly cutesy manner. "Let's all play with Draco's hair!" He reached out to muss Draco's hair, but Draco ducked out of the way.

"Alright," he said. "Enough." He waved his wand again and his hair returned to its usual straight style. He reassured himself that it was back to normal by running a hand through it and breathing deep in relief.

"How do you get it so straight?" asked Faye.

"Edmin's Straightening Solution," said Blaise for him. "It's a month long formula."

Draco glared and then his phone rang again. He pulled it out and answered in a rather testy greeting.

"Malfoy," he snapped. He listened for a moment then responded in an aggravated, biting manner. "Oh, so you _think_ now, do you? Well, do me a favor: don't call unless you have something definite to report. I don't care what you think, I don't care what you suppose, I want the facts so unless it is without a doubt that something is happening, I don't want you to call, do you understand that? Good." He slammed the phone closed, turned, and hurled it at the wall before remembering that there was a rather amused audience watching him.

"Angry much?" asked Fred.

"Or just really good news?" asked George.

"Ginevra," said Draco. "Can I borrow your phone?"

She dug around in her purse and then gave it to him. He dialed maintenance at his office where there was always someone on duty. "Hello. Yes, this is Malfoy. I need a new cell phone with all of my contacts in it within the hour. I'm at St. Mungo's." He hung up and handed it back to Ginny who put it away.

"Two in one day, Draco," she said. "Going for a record are we?"

"Merely keeping the phone company in business," he responded, brushing her teasing comment to the side.

Beside him Pansy yawned and got up. "I'm going to be sleeping on that couch over there," she said, gesturing to a couch by the far wall and headed over, Blaise following her, leaving Draco the entire sofa.

Faye yawned as well and snuggled in next to Charlie. Draco noticed that Penny and Percy were already asleep in their chairs and Fleur was leaning against Bill in a half awake stage. Conversation slowly died out.

Harry abandoned his chair in favor of a slightly more comfortable one a little ways apart and Mrs. Weasley moved to Harry's vacated spot where she and Sev struck up a quiet dialogue. Fred and George amused themselves by juggling the Translator Toffees, but they kept it quiet out of respect for those sleeping, which Draco found surprisingly decent.

Draco observed the group for a while and then pulled out his laptop and checked his email. To his disgust, two pages were full of the electronic messages, but he started answering them right away. There was no use in putting it off for tomorrow when he could just do it now, but after a while he got fed up with it and gave up. An owl delivered his new phone and he made sure the ring was on vibrate and slipped it in his pocket. Ginny joined him on the couch.

"Working?" she asked looking over his shoulder at the screen, laughing when she saw it. "Pinball, Draco?"

He grinned guiltily but was completely unashamed. "Want to play?" he asked. "It has a two player option."

"I warn you, I play a mean game," she said.

"Practicing at the office, Ginevra?" he asked.

She laughed. "No, but I did at the French Ministry. You keep me far too busy."

"Then you're out of practice," he said. "Do you want to be first player or second?"

"You first," she said, sliding over closer and actually leaning an arm against his shoulder so that she could watch his progress. Like he would be able to concentrate on the game when she was leaning up against him like that. Her sleeves were rolled up and his shirt was thin linen, the only boundary between their skin, and her warmth seemed to scorch his flesh, but he wouldn't want her to move for the world. He could feel her soft breath on his neck and he suppressed a shiver and forced himself to concentrate on the computer game.

It was easier to concentrate on the game when it became apparent that she was quite competitive. She won two games and he won one, then they went on to solitare where she beat her game going through the deck only once while his took five times. He made up for it by thoroughly trouncing her in Minesweeper. They were on their second round and it was his game when he realized that she had fallen asleep. A check on the laptop clock showed that it was one in the morning and a glance around showed that everyone else was asleep as well.

She shifted in her sleep, muttering something that sounded like French oaths under her breath making him smile. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and he froze, not sure what to do. He then noticed that she was curling up, obviously chilled and he carefully reached down and snagged his long coat from the floor by the couch. He draped the thick material gently over her and his lips turned up in a very real smile. He bent over her and pressed a feather-light kiss on the top of her head then pulled back. He returned to his computer but happened to catch the gaze of black eyes watching him. Sev raised an eyebrow at him, and then closed his eyes and settled back into his chair again.

Draco froze for the second time that night. He had kissed her. He had kissed her, Ginevra, no, he kissed Ginny. What did that mean? Did he have feelings for her? He couldn't have feelings for her, it was impossible. She was the last girl he would fall for, that was why he had hired her, to prevent this from happening. But did he seriously fancy her? Part of him, deep down, knew it was a lot more than a case of infatuation, and fear took a grip deep down in his heart.

-----------------------------------------

He awoke disoriented with a buzzing on his thigh. It took a few seconds for him to realize he had fallen asleep in the hospital and that his phone was vibrating in his pocket. He moved and then stopped short when he realized that he was half stretched out on the couch and that he had a sleeping Ginny Weasley practically on top of him. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"Malfoy," he said quietly. He listened. "Wait, what?" he asked, feeling for sure he had misheard in his sleep. His brain tried to wrap itself around the message the person on the other end of the line was saying. "You sure?" he asked. "It's steady? You positive, absolutely positive?"

"Draco, what's wrong?" whispered Ginny sitting up, concern in her voice.

He held up a hand. "Yes, alright. Thank you." He hung up and turned to Ginny, just looking at her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We're up 3.2 points," he said in an awed whisper. "We have been since midnight, and they say we're going to keep gradually creeping up."

"Are you serious?" Ginny asked.

"They just called. Said they didn't want to call me until they knew for sure, but they say the market is open for the day and that it's on the news. What time is it anyway?"

Ginny glanced at her watch. "Four-thirty," she said. "Up 3.2 points. You know what that means, right?"

He nodded at her, a smile spreading across his face. "We beat it," he said. "The depression is ended."

For a moment they just smiled at each other stupidly, two people who had just received the news they had been striving to hear for the past weeks, and now they didn't know what to do. Then Ginny let out a whoop, much like the one she had at the carnival riding Harry's broom, and she threw herself in his arms. He caught her, stood up, and twirled her around, the two of them bursting into laughter. He set her down, still holding onto her and grinning madly.

"Blaise," he called, not caring that he was waking up everyone else in the process. "Blaise, wake up you lazy bastard." He pulled out the phone and chucked it at his friend, hitting him on the head.

"The hell, Drake, what's going on?" Blaise asked, disentangling himself from Pansy and sitting up.

"Is the baby born?" asked Pansy. Her question was echoed by the others who were also beginning to stir.

"Nope, but history is in the making," said Draco. "Blaise you will forever remember this day."

"What is wrong with you?" asked Blaise. "It's bloody four in the morning. And why are you smiling? You are never smiling in the morning."

"That's because it is a beautiful day," said Draco. "We did it."

"What?" asked Blaise, understanding the meaning of Draco's cryptic statement and getting to his feet.

"Up 3.2 points since midnight," said Draco.

Blaise stared at him in shock and then burst into laughter. He ran over and pulled Draco into a bone-crushing hug. "You did it!" he shouted, causing those who weren't awake to be rudely thrown back in consciousness.

"What's going on?" groaned Bill.

"Has the baby been born yet?" asked Mrs. Weasley anxiously.

"Nope," said Ginny, "but something just as exciting." She walked over to the radio on the wall and flicked it on.

"-just in," the announcer was saying. "The market now reads at 9.4, that is up 3.3 points from yesterday and up .1 points from its last check at midnight. I believe that we can now say that the depression is over."

The rest of the words were drowned out by a cheer from those in the waiting room and Draco found his hand being shaken and his back patted by the entire 'family'.

"Well, Draco," yelled Blaise over the celebrations. "You just single-handedly stopped the depression, what are you going to do next?"

"I'm going to Disney World," Draco shouted back at him. Those around him frowned in confusion and he couldn't help but laugh at their expression. "It's an American thing," he said between laughs.

"Poor bloke," said Fred shaking his head.

"They've really corrupted him," said George.

"What's going on out here?" asked Ron, emerging from the hall to investigate the source of the sudden noise.

"Victory!" called Charlie, and his shout was taken up by Fred and George.

"What?"

"The depression is over!" said Bill. He swung Fleur into his arms and kissed her soundly, Percy and Charlie followed his lead. Blaise outdid them all by dipping Pansy so low her loose, blonde hair brushed the floor before kissing her.

"Mr. Weasley!" yelled the doctor from down the hall. "Come here now. The baby is coming!"

Ron bolted down the hallway as the family cheered again, Draco along with them. A half hour later and a very relieved looking Ron Weasley stepped into the room again. "Girl," he said.

"Yes!" said Fred.

"Bill, Charlie, you owe us five galleons," said George.

"Hush," said Mrs. Weasley. "How big?"

"Seven pounds three ounces. Nineteen inches long. Her name is Victoria Dawn; we thought it was fitting."

Draco grinned at that.

"I suppose you can all go home now," said Ron. "Hermione's sleeping, so is Vicki, but you can all come back in a couple of hours and see them. I'm gonna stay with Mione, so I'll see you all later. Thanks for coming by though." He gave a huge yawn and headed back to the room.

"Well, then," said Draco. "Who's up for breakfast at my place?"

"Your place?" asked Bill.

"Yeah," said Draco. "We can eat there, and then you guys can crash until your kids wake up."

"Are you sure?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "We don't want to intrude."

"You won't be intruding," said Draco.

"Yeah," said Blaise. "There's no one for you to intrude on except your own children."

"Well, all right," said Mrs. Weasley answering for the lot of them.

"Grand," said Draco. He led the way to the fireplaces in the main entrance and threw a bit of Floo powder in. "Malfoy Estate," he ordered and stepped into the flames.

He arrived in the marble entrance hall and waited for the others to show up. They stepped out of the fire with looks of amazement on their faces.

"You live _here_?" asked Charlie. The group started as Rolly appeared with a pop.

"Master has brought a party!" squealed the elf. "And you did not let Rolly know to prepare." If it was possible to sound aggrieved and joyous at the same time, Rolly pulled it off.

"It's just for breakfast, Rolly," he said, handing the elf his coat and briefcase. "Please alert the kitchens that we would like a meal and then tell the staff the guests require rooms for sleeping afterwards. It's been a long night."

"Of course, sir. Rolly will let Master know when breakfast is ready. Will you be wanting tea before?"

"No, we're fine. Thank you Rolly."

The elf disappeared with a _pop!_ and Draco turned to the rest.

"Would you like the fifty cent tour before breakfast?"

There were nods of agreement, and Draco led them down the east wing. "There are two wings of the house," he said. "The East and West Wings."

"Very original names," said Harry.

"Yes, Faustus Malfoy was known for his great skills of imagination. Before he named them, they were simply known as the guest wing and 'our' wing," said Draco drolly. "The East Wing holds the guest rooms on the upper floor and the Claret Library, which is here."

He let them examine the room and then led them around the downstairs thorugh the East Wing lounge, the drawing room, the Blue and Sun Parlors, the ballroom, the main dining room, the formal dining room, the large library and the large parlor. And lastly the music room. He pushed open the door and led them into the polished, wood floor room.

Draco liked this room. There were two upright pianos against the wall, an organ, several other instruments on mahogany shelves in ebony cases, a harp in the corner, and a grand piano in the middle of the room.

"This is where I learned piano," he said.

"You can play?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah," said Draco.

"Would you play something for us?" asked Faye.

"Normally yes," said Draco, "but I wouldn't want to deprive you pleasure of having a world famous musician play for you right now. It might be the only time you get to hear him."

"Who?" asked Fleur.

"My teacher," said Draco. "He's also my godfather."

Everyone turned to the dark haired man who was glaring at Draco so vehemently it reminded him of how Sev looked at Harry in their school days.

"Come now, Severus," said Draco, smiling innocently. "Turn about is fair, and speaking of fair, did you know that Blaise plays the harp?" He smirked at his best friend. "Well, perhaps they can entertain you while I go freshen up; I'm afraid I have to go in for work today." He gave them all a nod in farewell, shot one last triumphant smile at Blaise and Sev in parting, and left.

He went to his rooms and took a quick, but soothing shower, then dressed. Rolly popped in- literally- to see if he needed anything and he had a cup of coffee sent up. He was nearly finished doing his hair when Rolly informed him breakfast was ready. He gave his hair one last brush, straightened his shirt, which was such a dark shade of red it was nearly black, and his pants, which were his customary black dress pants, and threw on his black dragon hide shoes. Feeling much more awake after his coffee he joined the family in the dining room. They had already started eating when he arrived and he quickly slid into his seat at the head of the table.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I trust you were fully entertained in my absence." He grinned cheekily at Sev, who glowered and muttered something about 'If he wasn't my godson'.

"I swear, Draco," started Blaise.

"Do anything and I'll kick you out of my house," finished Draco. He helped himself to a platter of eggs and then snagged a piece of toast off of another tray. His mug by his plate was already filled with coffee, thanks to the house elves who knew what he drank.

"How can you look so good at five in the bloody morning?" asked Penny is disgust.

"Sickening," agreed Faye.

"It's called coffee," said Draco. "A wonderful thing."

"Bloody American," said Charlie smiling widely. "Have any more?"

"Oh, no," said Faye. "I want to sleep after breakfast and once you drink that you're positively hyper for the next three hours."

"You have a beautiful house here, Draco," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you," said Draco, "though I admit I don't do anything with it. I just keep the house elves happy."

"How many do you have?" asked Bill.

"Five," said Draco. "And this place is so huge I really need them. I've been thinking about selling it, but…," he trailed off with a shrug and pushed his plate away from him, done with breakfast.

"You should eat more," said Mrs. Weasley. Draco looked up at her in surprise and then looked down at his plate. He'd only eaten half a piece of toast and a few bites of eggs.

"I'm not really hungry, I guess," he said.

"You guess you're not hungry?" said Fred.

"You don't know if you're hungry?" asked George.

He'd never been a big eater; mealtimes were uncomfortable when he was a child and he had gotten into the habit of only when eating was a necessity.

"I'm not hungry," he said more affirmatively.

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Weasley. "You haven't eaten anything. Here," she passed him a dish of hash browns. "At least have some potatoes. It will stick in your stomach better."

Draco hid an exasperated sigh, for goodness sakes he was twenty-three and could take care of himself, and yet at the same time he felt a pleasant warmth knowing that she was nagging at him because she was concerned about him. He blinked, wondering if this was what having a mother felt like. He did as Mrs. Weasley commanded.

"Dear Merlin," said Charlie. "She's found another surrogate son. Draco, I'm sorry."

"Deepest sympathies," said Fred.

"And heartfelt condolences," said George.

"May you not see her too often," prayed Percy.

"And if you do," said Harry.

"Run," said Bill. "Very quickly in the opposite direction."

Draco noticed that though they said these things, they were all looking at their mother, in Harry's case 'adopted' mother, very fondly.

"Welcome to the family," said Ginny laughing as Mrs. Weasley began scolding her boys.

Draco looked down the table and couldn't help but smiling at everyone deep in debates, laughing and conversing loudly, trying to out talk everyone else. He couldn't help but think that this was how things were supposed to be.

After breakfast was over, he helped them all get settled in their rooms, telling them to stay as long as they needed; he even gave Ginny the day off, saying that all he would be doing was checking over the budget, taking a stop at Gringotts, and giving press conferences. She took it without protesting which showed him that she really was tired.

"Don't work to hard now," said Mrs. Weasley as he showed her the room she would be staying in. "And come back when you feel tired."

"Yes, ma'am," he promised, feeling that frustrated but grateful emotion again.

"Good," she said, and gave him a quick, motherly embrace.

Once he was sure they were all situated, he returned downstairs to grab his coat and briefcase. It was going to be a long day.

----------------------------------------------

Once again, sorry it took so long, and sorry for making things confusing with that whole deleted chapter, but noting was in it, so I decided I should just remove it. Sorry if you got confused, but don't let that stop you from reviewing. The little "Go" button is just calling your name, can't you hear it?


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would hire a voice teacher. So that I could be a pop-star. Sounds like fun, huh?

IMPORTANT NOTICE: This is the last time I'm noting that because of the deleted chapter 2, all chapters are knocked back one placement. If you didn't know that chpt 2 was once just a disclaimer for chapter one (which still stands) then you don't need to read this.

louey31: thank you, it's always great to here from new people

Alexandria J.Malfoy: yay for hyperness, lol. Here's more.

DCoD: Your reviews are a source of great encouragement. Thanks.

Guineviere: On your fav. list? wow, thanks

Now onto the next chapter. Wooot!

---------------------------------------------------------

Draco barely made it home without collapsing and wordlessly handed Rolly his things. He had been planning on going up to his room and sleeping in his bed, but his room was on the third floor at the very end of the west wing, so he made his way to his study, which was on the first floor, and collapsed there on the brown leather couch beside his desk.

Work had comprised of going to Gringott's at six in the morning to get the money he had promised to the hospital, and then heading straight to the office to prepare a bunch of statements and speeches for the news. He had given press conferences after newspaper interviews after more press time. He had then been asked by Minister Lupin to give a quick, impromptu briefing about the economy to himself, his cabinet, and a few select others. The quick briefing turned out to be two and a half hours long and immediately afterwards Draco had been hounded by the press again. He had then returned to his office to go over the finances with his accountants and that had taken another two hours. He had consumed so much coffee in the morning that his stomach was rebelling as he hadn't eaten since breakfast, so he forced himself to only have water while he went over the budget, and now that the caffeine was out of his system, he crashed. Crashed hard.

And that was why he was sprawled face down on his sofa without the energy to move, but his shoes were uncomfortable and so were the buttons on his shirt. He stifled a groan, but sat up and pulled his shoes off and then unbuttoned his shirt. He didn't have the energy to take it off so he left it on and lay back down. His last image before he passed out from exhaustion was the clock that read four twenty-five.

_He was lying in a field. His first thought was that the colors were way too intense. The long, blowing grass was an emerald green, the sky was the color of a robin's egg, the large, white puffy clouds were snow white and although they were blowing in the soft breeze, they never once passed in front of a sun so yellow it reminded him of the daffodils that grew in the gardens outside of Malfoy Estate. He frowned and stood up; something was wrong. No, not wrong, just missing. He couldn't describe it, but he knew that something was gone. He walked to the edge of the meadow, noticing a brook running merrily over silver stones next to golden sand. He looked into the sapphire water and saw his reflection, no it wasn't his. The face was older, the features too broad, the eyes too full of pride and disdain. _

_**You don't have everything yet**, whispered the wind. But **until then, I'll be waiting**. He couldn't help but think that the voice came from the reflection in the water and he pulled away hastily and began to run back into the field. But, as in most dreams, he tripped and found himself falling, falling, falling until he hit the grass, and he laid there, eyes shut tight as the blades of grass gently fluttered against his cheek. He tried to swipe them away, but was too tired to move. _

The grass brushed again and somehow felt much more real. No real wasn't the right word, physical perhaps…no, present. Not quite, he figured hazily, more substantial. Yes, that was the word. More substantial as in tangible, corporal, material. Once his mind settled on that word he was about to drift off again, but the weeds patted his cheek again, and this time he realized that they were slightly damp. He opened his eyes, focusing on the dragon that was stitched onto the shirt of the little boy in front of him. A little boy that was tapping his cheek with fingers that he had probably been sucking on. He groaned and wiped his cheek and the little boy grinned.

"Dragon," he moaned. "What are you doing?"

The child held up a book featuring a picture of a phoenix, unicorn, and dragon on the cover.

"You want me to read it to you?" asked Draco.

Dragon frowned at him.

"You want to read it to me?" he asked.

The boy frowned again, seemingly exasperated. Draco's tired mind finally grasped on the fact that Dragon didn't talk and was obviously annoyed with the references to speech.

"Alright then," he said, not sitting up but rolling onto his side so that the boy had some couch to sit on. "Pictures it is."

Dragon grinned the grin that lit up his dark eyes, clamored up on the couch, and leaned against Draco's stomach. He opened the book and held it so that Draco could see the illustrations as well. There was no need to communicate between the two of them, Dragon seemed to know when they had both finished looking at the pictures and would turned the page. They stayed like that for ten minutes before Fred and George came running in.

"There you are, Dragon," said Fred. "Hullo, Draco."

"You can't keep running away like that," said George to Dragon.

"It's very scary for Uncle George," said Fred. "He nearly had a heart attack."

"Yes, well Uncle Fred nearly wet his pants when we thought we lost you," said George.

Dragon smiled and his body shook, which Draco supposed was laughter.

"And he has the gall to laugh at us," said Fred to George.

"And to think his mother would have skinned us alive if she found out we lost him," said George.

"Lost who?" asked Pansy, coming in then.

"Oh, you're back," said Fred.

"Lost Draco here," said George, trying to convince the mother that her son had not been lost.

"I leave you two, Charlie, and Bill to baby-sit the kids while we women go check on Hermione and you manage to lose my son?" asked Pansy, hands on her hips.

"Course not," said Fred.

"He's with Draco," said George.

"Uh-huh," said Pansy, unconvinced but turning to Draco. "And I suppose you were taking a nap here because you completely over worked yourself at the office and were too tired to go upstairs so you slept on the couch instead. Didn't you promise Molly that you would come home when you were tired?"

"I did come home when I was tired," protested Draco. Which was true, he had been tired when he left the office. "And I wasn't sleeping."

"Which is why your hair is sticking up all over the place and you're lying down with your shoes off and your shirt unbuttoned," said Pansy. "If we weren't having dinner soon, I'd send you straight to your bed. Come Dragon, let Uncle Fred and George take you back to the family room."

Dragon obediently closed the book and slid off of the couch.

"Is that a book you were reading?" asked Pansy. "Can you say 'book'? Or how about 'dragon'?"

The boy visible wilted and Fred and George surprised Draco by stepping in.

"It's alright, Pans," said Fred.

"Yeah, we make enough noise to cover for him," said George. "Isn't that right, Dragon-boy?"

Dragon smiled again, and the smile turned into a grin when George swooped him into the air and took off down the hall, Fred chasing after them crying "No, I want to hold him. Dragon, you want Uncle Fred, don't you?"

Draco watched them disappear from sight, smiling faintly, then realized Pansy was looking at him with the same expression he was beginning to associate with Mrs. Weasley.

"What?" he asked.

"You okay, Draco?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Why?"

"Dunno," she said, her bad grammar betraying her worry. "It's just that we used to talk, you know. Me, you, and Blaise, and you used to tell us stuff, when you were upset, or confused, or when you got in a fight with Lucius. Now, it seems like we don't talk any more."

"We talk," said Draco, sitting up fully.

"Not really," said Pansy. "And I know something's bugging you. What is it?"

Well, if you want the truth, I kissed Ginevra last night, or actually this morning, and I think I'm falling in love with her, and that's a bad thing because…well, because, so there, Draco considered saying. Not to mention she slept on top of me at the hospital, and I've had trouble getting that image out of my head.

"It's just a lot to take in," said Draco, opting for a half truth. "I mean, I hated the Weasleys in school and they hated me, and Lucius killed their dad, and they seem perfectly fine with being around me, they even seem to like me. It's confusing." While that may not be the most pressing thing Draco was concerned with, it still made him wonder.

Pansy sat next to him on the couch. "I think they were wary of you at first," she said. "But you did save their lives during the war. Not only that, but Ginny's only been saying nice things about you, and they decided to trust you."

"She did?" asked Draco, trying to sound causal. Maybe he was too casual about it because Pansy didn't elaborate.

"Mmm-hmm," she said. "Plus, after you practically ran off yesterday, they realized that you didn't have the best of relationships with Lucius, not to mention finding out that you were…mistreated counts for sympathy points."

He nearly bristled at that comment, but he had to remind himself that sympathy and pity were two different things.

"Now then, it's five o'clock and the group is eating over again, but while dinner is cooking we're all hanging out in the family room, so come on."

Draco groaned, flopping back on the couch. Five o'clock meant that he had roughly twenty minutes of sleep and he was tired.

"Draco," said Pansy sternly and he grudgingly sat up, pulled his shoes on, and followed her to the large sun parlor, leaving his dark crimson shirt unbuttoned because he had a white undershirt on as well.

He entered the white and pale blue room with the glass ceiling and outer wall to find absolute and complete chaos. Eleven children were running wild, at least those who could run were running wild. He stared in shock at the kids and then turned to glare at the adults who were laughing at him.

"Alright Draco," said Charlie, coming along side him. "Who is who?"

Draco had an excellent memory; he could tell you exactly what the economy rating was for the past two weeks and spout off the budget allowed, the budget deficit, and the annual income of every one of his companies and also those he had invested in after merely glancing at the sheets, and he had tried to commit names to memory, so he took a deep breath and began.

"Alright, the two kids, the boy and the girl with Fred and George, have to be your twins, Charlie. Gabriella and Michael, who are named after the only two angels mentioned by name in the Bible, if I'm correct."

Charlie nodded, impressed. But is was easy to tell whose they were, they were the only set of twins and not only did they look like each other, but they had a very unusual look with auburn hair, purple eyes like their faerie mother and freckles.

"The boy next to them with the angry expression and the book with the black hair and freckles has got to be Percy and Penny's Emeric," he continued.

"Three down," said Charlie.

"And the other boy with them with the strawberry blond hair and blue eyes has got to be one of Bill and Fleur's," said Draco. "Gavin, right?"

"Yup," said Bill jumping in the conversation. "Which ones are my other two?"

"There's a group of girls in the middle of the room with dolls," said Draco. "The one with the strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes is also yours, her name is Alette, and the one with the straight pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes is Helena. She's named after Helen of Troy, isn't she?" She had to be, she was that gorgeous.

"Yup," said Bill. "Who's the other girl?"

"Straight brown hair, brown eyes, that's got to be Ron and Hermione's eldest Melody."

"How'd you know that?" asked Charlie. "We didn't tell you."

"Snape mentioned her, her godfather is Harry. And the baby girl that Ginevra is holding is Amandine, also Blaise's and so is Dragon with the dark hair and pale skin. And the boy that he's playing with has got to be Zakir, another one of Ron and Hermione's who shares my godfather."

Draco studied his 'little brother', who must have been three years old and his unusual looks rivaled those of the twins. He had a mop of tight curls that were both red and brown at the same time and a smattering of red freckles decorated light tan skin. His eyes were an odd shade of green-brown and he was playing with Dragon. The two of them were sharing a bunch of monster figurines between them; that is Dragon was holding one and studying it intently while Zakir was grabbing one than the other making them fight and eat each other. It was apparent he was a hyper kid because even while he was having the basilisk eat the hippogriff, he was twitching and making animal noises.

"I'm officially impressed," said Bill. "How ever did you do it?"

Draco shrugged. "Paid attention," he said. "Plus, they all look like you guys."

"Would you like to meet them?" asked Charlie, getting a wicked glint in his eyes that Draco thought only the Weasley twins were able to get.

"Oh, no," he said. "Kids don't like me." But it was too late.

"Hey, kids," yelled Charlie. "Meet your Uncle Draco!"

Dragon immediately ran to him and held up his arms. Draco stared at the boy who jerked his arms up again and Draco picked him up with a sigh. Not to be outdone by his silent counterpart, Zakir ran over as well.

"Up," he demanded. Draco looked at Charlie in askance but the Weasley just laughed.

"Kids don't like you?" he asked.

"Up, now," said Zakir. Draco sighed again and bent down. Zakir jumped up, flinging his arms around his neck and Draco hoisted him up with his free arm.

"You're my brother Draco," said Zakir, with surprisingly good English.

"Uh, yes, I suppose so," said Draco.

"So you have to take me flying," said Zakir. He was interrupted by Lida who had come over with her three friends.

"Uncle Draco," she said. "These are my friends, Alette, Helena, and Melody."

"This is your house?" asked Melody, a bossy note in her voice Draco recognized as pure Hermione.

"Yes, it is," said Draco.

"It's very big," she said. "Are you rich?"

"I guess so," said Draco, wondering where this conversation was going.

"Daddy says you have so much money it's disgusting," reported the girl matter-of-factly.

Draco didn't know how to respond and the adults present merely laughed at him. Zakir got bored with sitting still so long and squirmed out of his grasp and proceeded to tug on Melody's ponytail as he ran past. Melody shrieked and picked up her doll and threw it with surprising force at her curly haired brother.

"I'm telling Mum!" the girl shouted. Zakir didn't stop but continued to run around the room for no reason yelling at the top of his lungs. His shouts caused Melody to yell even more, and then Helena chased after Zak, mimicking his movements in an impromptu follow-the-leader and little Amandine began to cry at all of the noise. Lida and Alette chased Zak as well, but only because he had snagged Melody's doll as he ran past her and Emeric yelled at them all to shut up because he was trying to read his book and then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The twins and Gavin stepped in, Gavin grabbing his sisters and the twins separating the crazy boy from his outraged sister. Draco watched as parental control moved in and then he noticed that Dragon was trembling in his arms, tears leaking out of dark eyes.

"Hey, it's okay," he said softly. He moved Dragon from his hip into a two handed hold and the boy lay his head on Draco's shoulder, his tears sliding down Draco's neck. Draco instinctively began rocking the boy gently, rubbing the shuddering back with a soothing hand. He noticed that Ginny was also standing and swaying with Amandine whose cries had subsided into hiccupping sobs. He made his way over to her.

"Hey," he said.

She gave him a bright smile. "I wish I had a camera right now," she said. "I would love to hang up photos of you and Dragon at the office. It's even better than pictures of you in a diaper."

"I bet I could get some cute photos of you too," he countered. "All I'd have to do is ask your mother; I'm sure she'd love to let me look at the family photo albums."

She pouted. "Fine, no pictures. How was work? I saw you on the news a lot. Seems like every five minutes there was a picture of you talking or you giving a conference."

He rolled his eyes. "I would step outside and they were always there, I have no clue how they did it. Not to mention the fact that each and every news station and paper wanted their own private interview." He yawned, and sat on the couch; Ginny sat next to him.

"You look tired."

"Exhausted," said Draco.

Sev walked into the room just then, smirking at Draco when he saw his godson with the child in his lap and sitting next to Ginny. Draco willed his cheeks not to flush and merely raised an eyebrow in response. Sev settled himself in an armchair and turned to Draco.

"All during work, while I was trying to concentrate on my potions, every single, unattached witch kept coming down for some reason or another, and for some reason, the conversation kept turning to you. They wanted to know if you really were single and if you really were my godson. I had to lock and bolt the door to stop them from coming in," he said, accusation in his voice.

Draco grimaced and the door opened again, emitting Harry still wearing his Quidditch robes. He noticed that Potter looked pretty bad, with dark circles under his eyes and he looked paler than normal.

"Uncle Harry," yelled Zak running up to the Seeker. "I wanna go flying!"

Harry swung him into the air, zipped him around the room, and then deposited him in Sev's lap.

"Flying on a broom!" the boy demanded.

"Fred, George," said Harry. "I'm going to kill you for taking that boy up on a broom. He's obsessed."

"Flying, flying, flying!" Zakir chanted, but staying on the Potion Master's lap.

"What's the count today, Harry?" asked Charlie.

"Seventeen," said Harry, flinging himself down to the ground and playing absently with the figurines Zak and Dragon had left on the carpet. "Plus, the reporters have begun waiting at my apartment to talk to me. Our first game isn't for a while yet, and they can't leave me alone."

"Seventeen?" asked Draco.

"Fan letters," said Fred.

"Those from women," said George.

"We're keeping a tally," said Fred.

"You could probably have a competition between you and Harry," said George.

"How'd your date go?" asked Bill.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Potter had gone on a date?

Harry groaned. "Terrible. The paparazzi found out and kept taking pictures. It'll be all over the magazines tomorrow and Liz, she's a nice girl and all, but she's quiet. She hated it and said she couldn't deal with the stress."

Draco winced in sympathy while Bill and Charlie winced in sympathy. Fred and George looked shocked and gleeful.

"She dumped you?" asked Fred.

"She dumped the Boy-Who-Lived?" asked George.

"The Savior of the Wizarding World?"

"The Slayer of You-Know-Who?"

"Guys, stop," said Harry wearily. "I really liked her."

"She wasn't good for you," said Fred.

"Way too quiet," agreed George.

It was apparent form the look on Harry's face that they weren't helping any.

"You look like sh- really bad," said Bill, recovering from his near slip up.

Draco looked at Harry in concern. "This isn't going to affect your game, is it?" he asked.

"Aren't you nice," said Harry sarcastically. "And if I can play at Hogwarts when I knew Voldemort was out to get me, I think I can play now and be fine."

"You'd better," said Draco. "Else the reporters will have another thing to write about. Harry Potter, Sole Survivor of the Avada Kedavra Curse, Decimated by Heartbreak."

"Draco Malfoy Found Dead at his House. Sole Witness Harry Potter _Claims_ it was Suicide," Harry shot back.

"With Death of Malfoy Comes the Collapse of the Economy Again. Sole Witness Harry Potter, One Time Savior of the Wizarding World, Unable to Help."

"The Wizarding World Celebrates Passing of the Biggest Prat Alive."

"Potter's Intelligence Found Alarmingly Sub-Par after Stating 'The Passing of the Biggest Prat Alive' Obviously It Would Be the Biggest Prat Dead."

"Mafloy Does Not Refute the Fact that He is the Biggest Prat."

"Malfoy is Dead and Unable to Talk. Potter Claims Title of Stupidest-Man-to-Ever-Walk-the-Face-of-the-Earth."

"Would you two stop talking in headlines?" asked an exasperated Ginny. "Although, if both of you are dead, then you wouldn't be able to talk at all."

"Grand idea, sis," said Fred.

"We've taught you well," said George.

"Dinner is ready sirs and ma'ams," said Rolly, peeking in the doorway.

"Excellent," said Fred.

"Maybe with food in their mouths they'll shut up," said George.

Ginny laughed and Draco glared at her. Honestly, taking _their_ side. He shook his head and made his way to dinner, still holding Dragon.

It was after dinner, when the family had gone after thanking Draco for his hospitality, that Draco sat in the den by the fire, studying the flames, deep in thought.

"Uh-oh," said Blaise, coming in and taking the armchair on the other side of the fireplace. "That isn't a good look. What are you plotting, Draco?"

"Shouldn't you be putting your kids to bed?" asked Draco, still staring at the flames.

"Pansy's turn today," said Blaise. "And if you don't get up to sleep in half-an-hour, I'll make an exception and tuck you in as well."

Draco laughed and turned to his friend. "Potter needs a girlfriend," he said.

"We know that," said Blaise. "The trouble is the fame; it's nearly impossible to find a girl who isn't affected by cameras tracking her every move."

"Say I knew a girl who was used to cameras," began Draco.

"You aren't," said Blaise. "Tell me you aren't playing match-maker."

"Did you know that the economy always increases when popular figures are having a successful relationship?" asked Draco.

"You're becoming match-maker for the economy?" asked Blaise incredulously. He though a minute, then frowned. "Alright, I know you better than this. What's the other reason?"

"I figure that Potter and his girlfriend will be the main concern of the press once they get hooked up together," Draco admitted. "Then they'll stop hounding me."

"Very Slytherin," said Blaise. "Who's the girl?"

"That's a surprise," said Draco. He stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire now."

"Do you want me to tuck you in?" asked Blaise sweetly. Draco didn't deign a reply but shot him a look and walked out of the room quite dignified. Blaise just laughed.

---------------------------------------------

Okay. I didn't really proofread this that well, because I wanted to get it up. And nothing really major happened in this, but it's like a transitional chapter. And I promise you, there will be a real family dinner coming up in three or less chapters. So read and review!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would ban all statistics classes. Every day. For the rest of my life. And the world would be a better place.

I'm sooooo sorry this took so freaking long to update. Everything that could go wrong, has been going wrong, including a trip to the emergency room, but not for me, but for one of my roommates, the one that I don't like all that much, but I went with her because she didn't have any one else and it was two in the morning. I got back at seven thirty in the morning, just in time for my eight o'clock class which is statistics. I had 100 chance of sleeping through it.

But, I'm back, finally and I'm sorry for the wait. So this is a long chapter, and a long awaited one. This is a family dinner one! Well, later on. So read, enjoy, and review!

Special thanks to:

Guinevere: I like the slow building relationships too, and they're the only ones I can write. Glad you like the story.

Seranade: Thank you very much. I'm happy that you find the Draco/Ginny not too slow.

Julie: I honestly have no clue how many more chapters. I have the whole thing mapped out, but I don't know numberwise. Sorry about the long update. I swear it will never be this long again.

Ladybug0321: I have been getting a lot of comments on the slow building relationship, and I am glad that you like it as well. Thank you very much.

Padfootedmoony: Thank you, I'm glad you like.

Serilia: Those are some of my favorite spots as well. I'm glad you liked it, and thanks for taking the time to read my story.

DCoD: Hey look, a family dinner two chapters early! I decided it was about time to have one, I hope you enjoy it, and sorry about the wait.

Alexandria J. Malfoy: I'm glad you found it funny, and my roommates give me weird looks when I laugh at my computer as well. Here's some more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thursday. Thursdays were cruel. They were the days you made plans for the weekend, but you still knew that you had a whole 'nother eight hours of work the next day before freedom. Or, in Draco's case, a whole 'nother twelve hours of work and maybe another six on Saturday, but what could he say, he was a workaholic.

In truth, this Thursday was not as bad as it could have been. In fact, as far as Thursdays are concerned, it was a rather good day. It was the week after the end of the depression and although the economy was still far below what any prosperous country should have been, it was steadily creeping up, and stability was a good thing.

Cash and funds were still hard to come by. Businesses were doing well, but it was the non-profit organizations Draco was worried about. He was worried about the orphanages and the charity houses which were still close to closing. Truth be told, he could just take out his checkbook and write a nice seven digit number and send it to them, but that would be defeating the purpose. He was trying to get this economy to the point where it could sustain itself and not rely on large influxes of cash from a certain rich man.

Right now he was telling that to Padma Patil who was a field reporter. She had been stationed all around the world, but she had come back to work in England when her sister had married and moved to Russia a few months ago. Since their mother was ill, Padma had come back and was making quite a name for herself as a star reporter.

Draco, as a rule, did not like reporters. Padma was an exception. She had interviewed him several times while he was in America and they had struck up an easy friendship as both of them had left England for a chance to find themselves after the war.

"And that's about it," he finished.

"Can't keep relying on one man," she muttered as she wrote, then looked up once she was done. "Alright, thank you very much for your time Draco."

"Glad to be of service," he said.

The door opened up and Harry stormed in.

"Another reporter!" he demanded at Draco. "Another damn reporter? I'm sick of this; I refuse to do any more interviews. That's final!"

"Hello, Potter," said Draco. "Bad day?"

"Damn straight," said Harry. "I can't deal with any more interviews right now!"

"Who said anything about an interview?" asked Draco.

"You called me in for a meeting. Shelia said there was a reporter in your office."

"Not for you, she was interviewing me. I just wanted a report to see how the team was doing," said Draco.

"Oh," said Harry, blushing. He turned to the reporter. "I'm sor-Padma? Is that you?"

"Hello, Harry," said the dark haired reporter. "I'm surprised you remember me."

"You were in the DA," said Harry. "Of course I remember. I hear Parvati got married and moved to Russia."

"Yes," said Padma. "It was a rather quick engagement, so I came back to take care of mother."

"So you're a reporter now?"

"Yes. I was stationed abroad for the past few years."

"Well, you're looking well," said Harry.

"And yourself," said Padma. "I hear you're a Seeker now for the Chudley Canons. How is that working out?"

"Fine," said Harry.

"Really," said Padma. "Sounded to me like you were sick of the publicity."

"His girlfriend dumped him because of the media," Draco supplied.

Harry glared at him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Padma.

"It's alright," said Harry. "So, did you need to talk to me Draco, or what?"

"Yeah," said Draco. "Hold on a minute." He rummaged around on his desk looking for the sheet he needed underneath the piles of papers and the loose pages strewn everywhere, covering the surface. In truth the paper he needed was in his third drawer, right on top, but he was buying time until the phone rang.

"It was nice seeing you," he heard Padma say.

"It was nice seeing you too," said Harry.

Draco glanced at his watch, one-ten. Any minute now.

"I suppose I should go and let you and Draco talk," said Padma.

No, Draco thought. Don't go yet. The phone rang; he grabbed it.

"Malfoy," he said. "Oh, hello Minister. No, this is a perfect time. Just hold on a minute, would you? Thanks." Draco covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked up at the two. "I have to take this," he whispered to Harry so that the receiver didn't pick up his voice. "Come back in an hour, would you?"

"What should I do?" asked Harry.

"I don't know. Go get something to eat, better yet, take Padma to lunch, I kept her late. Charge it to the company."

"Wait, what?" asked Harry.

"Go, shoo," said Draco, waving at them to leave. They hurried out of his office, closing the door softly behind them. He watched them through the window, seeing Harry rub the back of his neck and say something to Padma. She laughed, her hand twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger. He smiled and there was a faint red tinge to his cheeks. Yes, they were perfect for each other. He turned back to the phone. Even if he had planned for the Minister to call to get Harry and Padma together, that did not mean the conversation was unnecessary.

"You were saying Minister?" he asked.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Tuesdays were alright, he supposed. It was a definite work day, though. Mondays he tended to only review the budget and finances for his companies abroad, for his companies in England, for the companies he had secretly invested in, and the economy of England herself. Although a long and tedious task, it was nothing to difficult. Tuesdays, however, were the days where he had meetings and had to look over papers from any one of the companies he invested in and had to either sign them, throw them out, or go to more meetings so he would know whether to sign them or throw them out. He also had to make a few executive decisions and go to conferences and what not.

He was used to working until nine on Tuesdays, but here he was at ten to seven, starting to pack up. There was a family dinner today at the Burrow and he was looking forward to it, something that he would not admit to anyone, not even himself. He didn't know why the thought of enjoying time with the group bugged him; he supposed it had to deal with his whole 'I don't need anyone' mentality.

Ginny opened the door; she had run home and changed out of her skirt and blouse into a pair of jeans and a mauve long sleeved shirt that was snug on her petite frame.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked, sounding rather exasperated.

"I'm picking things up right now," he said, shoving his laptop into his carrying case along with a few folders. He would have to look a few things over after dinner when he got home.

His cell phone rang and he grabbed it. Ginny gave a groan of impatience and rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy," said Draco into the phone, and then returning to the task of stuffing folders into his case, which was a whole lot harder with only one hand. "Oh, Bonjour, Henri."

Ginny rolled her eyes again and took the case and the folders from him and tucked them neatly in next to his computer.

"And those ones," Draco mouthed to Ginny, pointing at a small stack on his desk. She put them away then zipped up the case.

"Ready yet?" she asked.

"One moment, Henri," said Draco. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "I need to change now," he said. "Do you mind leaving?"

"If you're not ready in five minutes I'm leaving without you," she warned, shutting the blinds to the windows and then leaving the room. Draco uncovered the phone and struck up the conversation again, while grabbing the bag he had packed that morning and struggling to change with one hand occupied. Luckily Henri hung up a few seconds later so Draco could dress in the khakis, t-shirt, and black knit sweater without too much trouble. His desk phone rang just as he pulled the sweater over his head and he considered leaving it, but professionalism took over and he picked it up.

"Malfoy," he said, shoving his feet into his shoes without untying the laces.

Ginny barged in, took the phone from his hand, and hung up.

"No more phone calls," she said.

"Fine," he agreed, pocketing his cell phone and grabbing his laptop case. "I'm ready."

"Those are your casual clothes?" she asked, eyeing his wardrobe.

"As casual as it gets, yes," he said rather testily. "Remember, before I met you lot the only clothes I needed were business suits and dress robes."

"And before you met us you had absolutely no fun at all," said Ginny, grabbing the Floo powder from the box by his own private fireplace and chucking some in.

"Completely untrue," said Draco.

"Liar," said Ginny. "The Burrow," she commanded and stepped in the flames. Draco smiled and repeated her call, then stepped in and was whisked away.

He was spewed out into a brightly lit hall and before he had time to orient himself he was crushed into a huge bear hug by Fred Weasley.

"Draco! There you are old chum!" said the red-head.

"Fred, what are you doing?" he asked, trying to shove the grinning man off.

"Giving you a hug."

"Get off. I don't do hugs," said Draco.

Fred let go and turned to his twin. "See, he's a Malfoy. They don't do hugs," he said. "You owe me five galleons."

Draco blinked, his mind trying to deal with arriving in an entirely new location, the various loud noises that were coming from another room, the bright lights, the blend of smells that must be dinner cooking, and the shock of just being hugged, all at once. Ginny took advantage of his momentary mind-overload by taking the laptop from unresponsive fingers and putting it in the closet for safe keeping.

A tiny blur raced in between the two Weasley twins and impacted his leg. The jolt knocked him out of his confusion and he looked down to see Dragon grinning up at him.

"Hello, Dragon," he said, picking the boy up. Dragon grinned happily and threw his tiny arms around his neck. Draco couldn't help but give a small smile and returned the embrace.

"That," said George, "was a hug. You owe me five galleons."

"He's carrying him," protested Fred. "It doesn't count."

"Does too," said George.

"Does not," said Fred.

"This way," said Ginny, brushing past him and the arguing twins. He followed her past the kitchen where he could see Mrs. Weasley, Fleur, and Penny cooking. They entered the living room where it seemed the room would burst from all of the people inside it. Hermione and Pansy were on the couch holding their infants while Faye sat on the floor right by it braiding Helena's hair. Beside the blonde girl was Alette, who's hair was already in braids. Melody and Lida were there as well; it looked as if they were having a tea party. Gabriella, Michael, and Gavin were playing a board game while the usually sullen Emeric sat in a corner of the room, a book in his lap as he frowned at everyone in general. Bill, Blaise, and Percy were playing cards and having a fiery debate on exactly who was going to make it to the World Cup. Ron and Harry sat at a chess board, Harry losing, and Sev was sitting nearby with Zak at their own chess board. Zak actually seemed to understand the rules of the game.

"There's Dragon," said Pansy. "Glad you made it Draco."

Draco nodded and set the boy down. The boy looked up at him reproachfully and Draco sighed, but picked the boy back up and took an empty chair in between Harry and Ron and Sev and Zak.

"No," said Severus to the curly haired boy. "What do the knights do?"

Draco watched as the boy considered the board, and then retracted the horse figure on square. The boy was hardly moving at all, his usual hyperactive actions stilled by a frown on his face in concentration.

"I don't know how you do it, Snape," said Ron, shaking his head at his son, "but my thanks. I swear that boy moves even in his sleep."

Harry laughed, moved his queen and promptly got it stolen by Ron's rook. Draco snorted.

"Hopeless, Potter," he said.

"And you could do better?" he retorted.

"Course," he said.

"That a fact, Malfoy?" asked Ron.

"Pretty much," said Draco.

"You're on," said Ron.

"Hey, I'm playing," said Harry.

"And you're about to be checkmated in, what, three moves, Weasley?" asked Draco.

"Something like it," agreed Ron. "There's nothing you can do Harry. Just let it go."

Harry sighed, but vacated his seat.

"Ready to win this?" Draco asked Dragon, who nodded and grinned. Draco swapped seats with Harry, taking Dragon with him. The pieces reset themselves and Ron went first with the usual pawn move. Draco followed suit. Within five minutes Draco realized that Ron was very good, and within ten minutes, Ron was realizing the same about Draco.

Draco noted that while chess games were taken seriously, they were very informal. In the middle of the game, Ron was called away by Hermione to hold Victoria Dawn for awhile and the game was put on hold while Ron showed his daughter off to Draco, who had to admit she was a gorgeous girl with red-orange hair and pale blue eyes. Fred and George had already given her a nickname, Vicki-D, which reminded Draco of an orange juice brand in America, Sunny-D, but he didn't say anything. Ron returned to the game, and two minutes later Draco was called away by Zakir, who wanted to show Draco the drawing he had made after finishing his own game with Sev.

Draco praised it appropriately, and then had to set Dragon down who also wanted to color.

"Queen to E-5," he called, as he made sure Dragon was settled.

Ron looked up at him. "You don't need to see the board?" he asked.

"No," said Draco.

Ron smiled. "Grand," he said, and flipped a switch on the edge of the board. He went and sat next to his wife. "Now, we can play anywhere, and the pieces will still move. Bishop 2 to A-3," he said, a challenge apparent in his eyes as he resolutely stared away from the board.

Draco smirked, sitting down with his 'brother' and Dragon, and picking up his own crayons. He sketched out a few plans for the new wing on the Ministry, planning to wait awhile before responding to see if Weasley forgot the positions of his players. Ron obviously knew what he was doing because he didn't say anything. Draco frowned at his sketches, crumpled up the paper, and threw it in the fire.

"Look, Draco," said Zakir, shoving a new piece of parchment in his face. "A broom!"

"I see," said Draco, shifting so that he was lying on his stomach, propped up in his elbows, a posture he would often take when he was in Hogwarts studying. "What kind of broom is it?"

"A flying broom," said Zakir. "I wanna go flying!"

Draco was about to answer but his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and answered it. "Malfoy."

He never figured out who it was because Ginny came over from where she was helping Faye braid hair, snatched it from his hand, and snapped it closed.

"That's my phone!" he protested, struggling to his feet.

"Your point?" Ginny asked, holding the phone behind her back.

"Give me my phone," he said, holding his hand out with an impatient look.

"You're not at work, Malfoy," said Ginny. "Give it a rest."

"I'm always at work," said Draco. "And that was an important call."

"This is a work free environment," said Ginny, defiantly.

"Ginevra," Draco began, "give-,"

"If you keep it up, I will be forced to take drastic measures," Ginny warned.

"If you keep it up, you will be fired," Draco warned right back.

"Do you promise no more calls?" Ginny asked. "Will you let your voicemail get it?"

"Yes," said Draco. "Messages, no calls."

"I'm holding you to your word," said Ginny. "As self superior as you think you are, England will survive without you for a few hours."

"Phone," said Draco, glaring as the occupants of the room laughed, not hiding the fact that they were listening in.

She handed it to him and he put it back in his pocket, still glaring.

"Better hide your crayons, Zak," he told the kid. "She'll grab those next."

He sat back down, sketching some more rough outlines, then looked up at Ron. "Rook 1, C-5." He returned to his sketches, laying back down on his stomach and grunting when Zak decided to jump on his back.

Someone else came into the room then, but Draco didn't look up. Zak was sitting on Draco's back, peering over his shoulder at Draco's drawing and trying to steal his crayon. Meanwhile Dragon had moved over and was turning Draco's blueprint into a very fearsome looking dragon.

"Dragon, get your own paper," said Draco, trying to shift away but in doing so giving Zak the perfect opportunity to grab his crayon. "Hey!" said Draco, not letting go of the coloring implement. Zak giggled madly and Draco retaliated by turning on his side and dumping the kid off. He then proceeded to tickle his stomach until Zak relinquished his hold on the crayon.

"Thank you," said Draco, returning to his drawing. "And you," he said to Dragon who was grinning, "just loosed a dragon in the Ministry of Magic."

Dragon merely smiled even wider. Draco was not expecting to hear the next voice from the person who had just entered.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

His head jerked up, his gaze resting on the face of the new Headmistress of Hogwarts, and he said the first thing that came to mind. "Holy shit!"

Zak cackled wildly. "Shit!" he crowed, jumping up and down. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Draco sat up, nabbed the boy, and pulled him onto his lap, his hand clamping over the child's mouth. "Professor McGonagall," he said, "how are you?" Beside him on the couch Pansy and Hermione were trying not to laugh and failing; he shot them a glare.

The stern woman regarded him severely. "Very well and yourself?"

"Quite well," he said. Zak pulled his hand away from his mouth and regarded the woman in front of him.

"Shit," he said brightly. On the couch next to Hermione, Ron gave a bark of laughter and then clamped his hands over his mouth much like Draco had done to Zakir.

"Excuse me for a moment, Professor," said Draco. He looked at Zak. "That's a bad word to say," he said to the boy.

"You said it," said Zak.

"I was bad," said Draco. "Don't say it anymore, alright?"

"Why?"

"Because it's bad to say it. You can say it when you're older."

"Really?" asked the boy.

"Yes," said Draco. "When you have your own house."

That seemed to satisfy the boy who smiled and then stole his crayon again, then stole the paper, and scribbled all of the Ministry of Magic and the dragon within it.

"You can say it when you're older?" Hermione asked, still giggling and not seeming upset that her son learned a new word. Draco figured that Zak had already heard it by the calm way Hermione was taking it.

"Well, when he has his own house he can say it if he wants to," said Draco, defending himself.

"Draco, darling," said Pansy, "I really hope you learn some better parenting skills before you have children."

"I don't plan on having any," said Draco, as the two boys clamored over him in their attempts to show them their new pictures. "I already have enough."

"Dinner," said Mrs. Weasley coming into the room and immediately there was a scramble from the Weasley men to get to the dining room; Draco followed at a more moderate pace.

The dining room was holding a large table for the adults and a smaller table for the kids. Because it had to accommodate so many people, there was barely any room to walk around. Draco squeezed into a seat between Ginny and Harry.

Dinner was loud, noisy, and probably the most fun Draco had experienced in a long time. Insults, he found, were the most common form of endearment and people would do anything for a laugh, which included the telling of many childhood escapades.

"When Mum went into labor with Ginny, it was pretty sudden, and so Dad went with her and I was stuck watching the kids," said Bill. "I was eleven at the time, Charlie was nine, Percy was, what, five I think, Fred and George were three and Ron was one. Anyway, so Fred and George were always color-coordinated, right, so we could tell them apart. Fred was red, George was green."

"Ahh," said Harry. "The Christmas theme."

"Sounds like the Head Dormitory during our seventh year," said Draco to Hermione, who snorted.

"I really hated that room," she said. "Mainly because you were in it. You probably hated it because I was contaminating your air." She laughed lightly.

"Actually it was the perpetual holiday décor that got to me," said Draco. "All that good will and happiness, not my thing. I felt I should go around saying 'Merry Christmas' all the time."

"'Merry Christmas'?" asked Harry.

Draco winced. "Sorry, American phraseology. 'Happy Christmas', then."

"Poor bloke," said Blaise, shaking his head.

"So what happened?" asked Pansy to Bill, getting the story back on topic.

"So as I was babysitting them," said Bill, "I had to leave them, for I swear, maybe thirty seconds, and I come back, and they are both completely starkers and I have absolutely no clue who is who, and whenever I call Fred, both of them look up, and when I say George, they don't respond."

The table burst into laughter, even the Weasleys who had no doubt heard this story a hundred times.

"What did you do?" asked Pansy.

"Went outside and grabbed a gnome and showed it to them," said Bill. "You see a few weeks back a gnome had attacked Fred and he'd been petrified of them ever since. As soon as he sees the little bugger, he bursts into tears, though I could have been wrong," he said. "And we may never know to this day who the real Fred Weasley is." The last was said in a solemn, creepy voice and Draco smirked.

"Bishop 2 to B-6," said Ron.

"Knight 1 to B-6," said Draco, playing with the remaining food on his plate. "Check."

"Rook 1 to B-6," said Ron.

"Are you two seriously playing chess?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Your move Malfoy."

"I'm thinking," said Draco.

"A rare occurrence," said Harry.

"And yet a great deal more common then the emission of your own brainwaves," said Draco, his eyebrows knitting as he studied the board in his mind.

"So you are admitting that you rarely think," said Harry.

"I'm admitting that I rarely need to," said Draco.

"You're full of it, Malfoy," said Harry.

"And I thought the savior of the wizarding world was supposed to be nicer," said Draco.

"Hate to break it to you, Draco, but you're the one saving the world now."

"The economy," Draco amended. "I have no interest in the people. Numbers are a lot easier to manipulate."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin," said Harry.

"Thank you," said Draco.

"I forgot you would take that as a compliment." Chuckles from the Gryffindors.

"You can't help it; you're naturally dense." Chuckles from the entire table now. Harry frowned.

"Brat."

"Scarhead."

"Prat."

"Potty."

"I resent that."

"Hey look, you can rhyme. Congratulations."

Fred and George snorted while chewing and Fred nearly choked. The rest of the table looked highly amused, although Professor McGonagall looked a little shocked.

Harry opened his mouth to respond but Mrs. Weasley beat him to it.

"Alright, that's enough," she said, smiling indulgently, then spotting Draco's half full plate and noticing none of the food was making its way to his mouth. "You are going to eat that all, young man."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

His cell phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. The Minister of Magic. Damn. He looked at Ginny.

"It's the Minister," he said.

"Draco, don't," said Ginny.

"If you'll excuse me," said Draco to the table, getting up before they could even respond.

He had just said hello when Ginny grabbed the phone from him again.

"Hello, Remus?"

"Lupin!" yelled Fred and George, banging on the table.

"Yes, it's Ginny. And that was Forge. Look, Draco's not available at the moment, you'll have to call tomorrow. Thank you for understanding. Good-bye." She closed the phone and stared at him. "You said no more calls."

"It's the bloody Minister, Ginevra," said Draco.

"You promised," said Ginny, looking disappointed. He hated that look on her face.

"Look, Ginevra," he began, but stopped in open-mouthed horror as she drew back and hurled his phone at the far wall, making Fred and George duck out of the way. His phone shattered. The entire table turned to Draco; Draco turned to Ginny.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded.

"Well, you've done it twice," said Ginny. "Plus, you broke a promise."

There were chokes of laughter from all around the table. Draco just stared.

"My phone," he said, still in shock. "You threw-that was-," he trailed off, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Draco," said Blaise, "You alright?"

"It's just cell phone separation anxiety," said Ginny, pushing him back into his chair. "He's become a little too attached. Luckily there are ways to deal with the loss. This is what we call invisible cell phone therapy." She extended her thumb and pinky finger like a phone. "Do this, Draco," she said, speaking in a baby voice. "This is your new cell phone. Ready, I'm going to call you." She mimed poking buttons on her fingers and held her hand to her ear. "I'm calling you Draco!" she said mock excitedly. "Answer your phone!"

There were full out bursts of laughter as Draco turned back to his dinner, ignoring the red-head who was giggling madly beside him.

"You didn't answer your phone, Draco," she said, pouting prettily.

"And give you an excuse to smash my hand into a wall?" asked Draco.

"What?"

"You said no calls anymore and then you smashed my cell phone," said Draco. "Now you're enticing me to answer another call so you have an excuse to smash my hand. You're a temptress, that's what you are," he said, pointing at her accusingly with his fork.

The table laughed anew at his matter-of-fact tone.

"She's just a woman," said Blaise. "They're always changing their minds."

That drew a chorus of indignant remarks from the women while the men laughed.

"For that," said Faye. "The men get to wash the dishes."

"Thanks a lot, Zabini," Ron grumbled.

"Suck it up, Weasley," Zabini grinned.

The men did do the dishes, but the women did the dessert dishes. Then the entire party went outside. Hermione and Pansy had Fred and George take the patio couch to the lawn where they sat holding their babies while the others flew broomsticks. Pansy wouldn't let Dragon on, so Draco took Zak. The kid wasn't lying when he said he liked to fly. He was laughing the whole time, even when Draco pulled a steep dive that made Hermione scold him for his recklessness.

The younger children were put to bed half an hour later and the real game began. Charlie and Harry were Seekers and team captains in charge of picking their players. Harry shocked them all by picking Draco first.

"I'll take Draco as Chaser," he said. Draco grinned as he went to join the Boy-Who-Lived. "You had better be good," he whispered to Draco. "I don't want to regret this."

"Oh, you won't," said Draco. Harry picked Ginny as their other chaser, due to the shortage of players they had to make do with lesser numbers. George was their beater, and Ron was Keeper. The other team had Blaise, Penny and Faye as Chasers, Fred as Beater and Blaise as Keeper.

Because of the different levels of playing, there were different levels of scoring. If Faye or Penny scored a goal it was thirty points, if Bill scored it was twenty because Ron was a good Keeper. Ginny and Draco's goals were only worth ten. Both Charlie and Harry could toss the Quaffle, but couldn't score, and if Charlie caught the snitch it was worth 150, where as it was only worth 75 if Harry caught it. Hermione, Pansy, Percy, Fleur, Sev and McGonagall were the unofficial referees while Mrs. Weasley kept the older kids occupied inside.

The hoops were a typical backyard set, only two goals on each side and only twenty five feet in the air, but it was just as intense. The minute Percy let the balls loose, Draco was there, battling for the Quaffle. He grabbed it, ducked under Bill, and tossed it to Ginny. He remembered that she was a good player, but this was the first chance he actually noticed her. She was fast, her movements not smooth and effortless like his seemed, but almost chaotic and constantly switching directions, but fascinating to watch.

The game was friendly, but violent. Draco found out that it was okay to bang into the other male team members while playing, but he and the other men refrained from going after the girls, though the Weasley brothers had no qualms about attacking their sister, though they did so gently.

Draco got hit rather roughly by Charlie who was going after the fly away Quaffle. The Seeker rammed right into his outstretched arm with the handle of his broom, and while the contact was intentional, the force was not. Draco bit back a grunt, and pulled right sharply in a barrel roll.

"Sorry mate," Charlie called, sweeping off with the Quaffle. "Do you want to call a foul?"

"Just shake it off, Malfoy," yelled Ron.

Draco clenched his teeth and flipped in the air, leaning forward and shooting forward to follow after Charlie. He followed right on the dragon tamer's tail until he passed, and Draco darted forward to intercept it. He then took it all the way down to the other goal to slam it in. He took a quick victory lap around the pitch, slapping hands with Ginny who cheered him on.

They worked well together even though none of them had ever played on the same team. He supposed it must be because they worked together and so could read each others gestures and signals. Draco took his revenge on Charlie by 'accidentally' bumping shoulders as they passed, causing the Seeker to lose sight of the Snitch he had just spotted. The Weasley swore at him; Draco responded with a rude American gesture. Fred nailed him once with a bludger to the ribs, and Bill had a habit of checking him roughly when he had the Quaffle. Draco checked back just as harshly.

There was only one injury that caused the game to be put on hold. Fred and George had been whacking bludgers at each other, and Harry had inadvertently flown into one while chasing the Snitch and had taken one to the head. He had managed to land, rather clumsily, and the whole team landed and crowded around the Seeker. Sev pushed his way through to examine him, and pronounced him fine, but he would have one hell of a bruise. He had then forced the boy hero to drink one of the pain relief potions Sev always had on him and the game began again.

"Bishop 1 to E-5," Draco yelled to Ron, intercepting the Quaffle from Penny.

"Knight to E-5," Ron hollered back.

Draco dipped sharply, then pulled straight back up and lobbed the ball to Ginny, who caught it easily and then passed to Harry.

"Queen to E-5!" he shouted.

"Rook to E-5. Check!"

"Knight to E-5."

"Pawn to A-6."

Draco went low to catch the pass Harry threw and Bill was on top of him, forcing his broom so low his legs dragged across the grass. He tried to rise but Bill's broom handle was right in his back, and he slipped sideways, jamming his shoulder into the ground. He rolled up, his leg out, catching Bill and forcing him down. Bill's broom caught the ground and he sprawled. Draco tossed the Quaffle to Ginny who scored. And one second later and the game was over with an anti-climatic catch from Harry who merely spotted the Snitch two feet away from him.

Draco landed and laughed at Bill who was just getting up. The ground was rather muddy and Bill's entire left side was covered in the brown paste. His own pants were streaked with green stains.

"Think that was funny, do you?" Bill asked.

"Yeah," said Draco, watching the others land in various states of disrepair. Fred had a bloody nose and George was holding his wrist. Charlie simply looked disheveled, Harry was rubbing his head, Ron had a hand on his ribs and a black eye from a bludger, and Blaise's limp was more pronounced, but Draco suspected that it was more because he had been on a broom than because he had been injured. The girls were fine.

He was so distracted by the others that he didn't notice Bill until the eldest Weasley had seized him in a headlock and was dragging him to the ground.

"Revenge is sweet!" shouted Bill, trying to push Draco's face in the mud. Draco twisted out of the grip, but not before Bill had thoroughly mussed his hair all the while. Within two seconds it had been a full out mud fight with even the girls joining in. Draco managed to get Harry completely covered, but then a glob of mud had been smeared into his hair by a grinning Ginny Weasley.

He tackled her, gently, and returned the favor. Then Mrs. Weasley had barged out and ordered them all to quit it and to get on the porch where they would have to stay until they left because not even a cleaning charm could remove all of the mud.

It was a rowdy group on the porch while Mrs. Weasley was fussing over the injuries on the men. It was late and had gotten quite cold and dark so Hermione had brought out hot mugs of tea which they all accepted thankfully. Right now Mrs. Weasley was checking over Harry, prodding his skull where the bludger had landed.

"Seriously, I'm fine," said Harry trying to duck out of the way. Seeing as he was well enough to protest Mrs. Weasley grudgingly let him go only to turn on Draco.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I'm fine, just a couple of bruises," he said.

"And where are those bruises?" she asked.

"I ran into his arm," said Charlie who was across from him. Draco glared at the Weasley, but he only grinned.

"Which arm?" she asked.

Draco held out his right arm and she pushed up the sleeve, making Draco grimace. Charlie's broom had smacked into his forearm and left a gruesome black and blue mark, and it was swollen in a hard knot. Mrs. Weasley gently ran her hand along the bruise to feel for a break and Draco had to bite back a curse.

"Well, not broken," she said. "I'll get you some Bruise Begone potion to take down some of the swelling." She reached for the bag she had brought out and rummaged around in it, pulling out a green bottle and a rag. She poured some of the foul smelling potion on the rag and lightly spread it over the bruise. "Leave that on," she said, "and don't scratch. Alright, who's next? Ron, what's wrong with your ribs? Take off your shirt."

Ron obviously knew there was no disobeying his mother and so he pulled off the red sweater and the under shirt, wincing as he did.

"Bruised," Mrs. Weasley pronounced, and Ron's ribs got the same treatment as Draco's arm. She went inside once she had finished and there was a comfortable silence broken by Draco.

"Bishop 2 to D-7," he said, leaning back in the chair and taking a sip of the tea.

"Rook 1 to B-7," said Ron, scratching at the potion drying on his chest.

"What's that?" asked Charlie, pointing to a small scar on Ron's shoulder.

Ron looked at it and shrugged. "Scar, from the last battle. Piece of glass fell on me."

"I didn't know that," said Harry. "I thought you said you weren't hurt."

"Yeah, well you were so stressed out afterwards I didn't want to upset you," said Ron. "Besides, whenever Hermione sees it, she kisses it. I'm not complaining."

Hermione blushed from where she sat next to her husband, but then she pulled his head down and kissed him soundly in the lips to the hoots and the protests of the group.

"That's nothing," said Charlie. "Look at this." He pulled up his pant leg showing three very long scars that looked recent because they were still red. They ran from his knee to his ankle. "Baby dragon," said Charlie.

"You told mum you were fine," Ron accused.

"Last time I got hurt, she begged and cried for five days straight for me to quit," said Charlie. "Like I'd tell her again."

"I got one better," said Blaise. He stood up balancing on his good leg and pulled down his pants. "I've still got my boxers on," he said as the group protested to his strip, well every one except Pansy who was outside as well. "Look."

It was the first time Draco had seen the finished result of three surgeries and two years of physical therapy. His friend's leg had a huge scar directly above his knee cap and a patch of skin right over his knee that didn't quite match the color of his flesh. Two scars ran from three inches above his knee to three inches below his knee. That was where the surgeon had cut a year after the battle in hopes to gain him more mobility.

"Shit," Bill breathed. "Was that because of the war?"

"Yeah. Part of the ceiling collapsed right on me," said Blaise. "Draco saved my life."

Draco snorted. "All I did was freak out until the medics arrived and nearly kedavra'ed him for saying you were a Death Eater."

"I remember you freaking out," said Blaise pulling his pants back up. "I thought I was dying because I had never seen you that upset. You were practically crying."

"I wasn't crying. I was mad."

"Right," said Blaise. "We believe you." His tone suggested otherwise.

"I was," said Draco. "I even punched the wall and broke my hand."

"Wait," said Harry. "I thought you were stabbed."

"I was," said Draco. "It wasn't that bad."

"You nearly died," said Blaise.

"I did not," said Draco. "I walked up to the infirmary all by myself."

"And then collapsed right there," said Ginny. "I remember you were all pale and leaning against the wall, and then you go to move and pass out. The only reason we knew it was your side was because you were all doubled over."

"Let's see it, Drake," said Blaise.

"See what?" asked Draco.

"The scar," said Blaise.

Draco looked at the group dubiously, but they all seemed interested, even Ginny who had seen it before. He sighed and pulled up his shirt, exposing his side where the scar was.

"Doesn't look so bad," said Fred.

"I was expecting something more dramatic," said George.

"I'm gonna have to agree with Fred and George," said Blaise.

"I appreciate it," said Draco, sarcastically to his friend. "Of course it's not that dramatic. I was stabbed, not slashed."

"The slash would have made a better scar," said Bill.

Draco rolled his eyes then turned around. "Here's where the blade came out on the other side," he said, craning his neck, but he was only ever able to see the second scar in the mirror. It was a smaller mark, because only the tip protruded out of the skin on his back. That got their attention.

"Wait, what?" demanded Ginny, who hadn't seen that scar.

"It came out?" asked Fred.

"All the way out?" asked George.

"That's sick," said Harry. "You were practically skewered."

"I believe the word is impaled," said Charlie.

"I take it back," said Bill. "That is much more impressive than a slash. And a whole lot more disgusting."

"You asked," said Draco. He pulled his shirt back down and smirked at the slightly green look on Ron's face. "Bishop to A-5."

"Knight 1 to B-3," said Ron.

"Knight 2 to C-6," Draco shot back. "Check."

"Rook 1 to B-1," Ron retorted quickly.

"Queen to A-4. Check."

"Pawn 3 to E-6."

"Rook 2 to F-5," said Draco.

"Knight 2 to B-5," said Ron.

"Que-," Draco cut off and looked at Ron who came to the conclusion right when he did. They both took off for the living room, Ron getting to the door a second sooner. Draco followed him as they pounded down the hall and burst into the living room where Sev, McGonagall, and Mrs. Weasley were sitting over tea and biscuits talking.

"Ron, what on earth?" demanded Mrs. Weasley.

Draco stared at the board, so did Ron.

"I don't bloody believe it," said Ron, frowning. "I've never lost a game."

"Well look at who you've been playing with," said Draco quietly, still staring at the board.

"Good point," said Ron.

"And you didn't really lose," said Draco. "It's a stalemate."

"Something wrong?" asked Hermione, as the group all trouped in tracking mud all over the floor.

They both turned around.

"Stalemate," said Draco.

"Well, Malfoy," said Ron, extending his hand. "Good game."

"Back at you, Weasley," said Draco, shaking the offered hand.

"Why couldn't they have gotten along during school?" asked McGonagall to Snape, who snorted into his tea.

"Well, we couldn't have given you too much of an easy time," said Ron.

"I blame it on the Gryffindors," said Draco. Ron smacked him, though lightly.

"No fighting in the house," scolded Mrs. Weasley. "And all of you are absolutely filthy. Back outside with you."

"Actually," said Pansy. "I'm going to take the kids and head back. It's rather late."

"Same here," said Harry, and the others also agreed. Five minutes later Draco was carrying a sleeping Dragon while slinging his laptop over his shoulder. He met Blaise and Pansy by the fire, Blaise was carrying Lida and Pansy had Amandine. He said his good-byes to those who hadn't left yet and promised that he would be back at the next dinner. Ron wanted a rematch.

"Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Weasley," he said to his hostess.

"Not a problem, you're family now, you know."

He smiled at that, getting a warm sensation in his gut he usually associated with to much Firewhiskey. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and sent him off to the Floo, telling him to get right to bed and not do any more work. She really knew him too well.

"We'll make sure he gets to bed," said Blaise, following him. "I'll read him a bedtime story so he falls right asleep."

Draco ignored him and stepped into the green flames. "Malfoy Estate."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, what do you think? Please leave a review, and I promise, no more two week waits for updates. One week at the most.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would have some one sleep for me. Every day. So that I would get eight hours of it like I'm supposed to.

WOOT! I got 100 reviews (does a little dance around the dorm while roommates look at me oddly) THANK YOU ! To all of my reviewers, thanks so much, and I'm sorry this is two days late, but I got sick, over Thanksgiving break, how sucky is that?

GoldenFawkes: Some D/G action for you, thank you so much for reviews on other chapts as well

louey31: woot, thanks, I'm glad you liked it

Sweetmly117: here's some more for you, thanks for the review

hart-break: sorry for the wait, but here's some d/g drama in this chapter

Dracosbaby7: hey, thanks for the awesome review, here's another chapter!

Angelique Collins: yeah, I thought Draco and Ron would be a fair match

Alexandria J. Malfoy: I thought the whole skewered thing was a nice little bit of eww in the chapter

DCoD: Wow, I'm glad you liked it. This chapter is a little more serious, but still, enjoy

Read and review, y'all!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was May. May 20th. The weeks had flown by fast until this point. England was now, officially, out of the red zone, they were also out of the yellow 'warning' zone, and were functioning well with in the parameters of any other country.

Businesses had come back, the employment rate was down to 7, still rather high, but it was still decreasing, and the economy was at 20.3. Even the weather was nice. Once April had past the air had warmed up, the rain had abated slightly, and flowers had begun to come out.

May 20th. It had really been six years now, he thought as he fiddled with the top button on his green silk shirt and checked his reflection in the mirror in his office. Six years since that last battle, six years since Lord Voldemort, six years since he had a family. Well, make that five and a half, he thought as he heard a loud horde of noise that could only be a herd of kids and adults. He decided to leave the top button loose and grabbed his laptop case and his sunglasses.

He opened his office door and stared as the entire 'family' was escorted up by Shelia.

"Hey, boss. These folks here said they were to take you to the ceremony," she said.

Draco stared at them all. "You didn't have to, you know," he said, but still touched that they did.

"Oh, nonsense," said Mrs. Weasley. "Do you have a jacket to bring in case it gets cold?"

He smiled at the bit of mothering; he couldn't help it. "I'll be fine," he said. "Shall we head off?"

They didn't all fit in the elevator, so they took two trips and then exited the building into bright sunshine and a cool breeze. Draco slipped on the sunglasses and fell into step beside Harry, who had his own sunglasses on.

"Paparazzi, three o'clock," said Harry, out of the corner of his mouth.

"And eleven o'clock. You know, maybe it isn't such a good idea for me and you to be in the same place at the same time today," said Draco.

"Most likely," agreed Harry. "Where's Ginny?"

"Already there setting up," said Draco. "So, you have your first game in a week. How do you feel about it?"

"Don't ask," said Harry. "I get all nervous."

"Alright, how's Padma?" Draco asked, knowing things had heated up between him and the reporter. Harry had even brought her to the last family dinner where the family had practically interrogated her before accepting her with open arms. But she was a reporter and had pulled through it fine. The girls were, perhaps, the most ruthless at the questioning, but it was only because they were trying to look after Harry who had already been through so many girlfriends, who had all broken his heart, and Padma had understood that.

"She's meeting us there," said Harry, evasively. "And by the way, thanks."

Draco looked at him, but couldn't see his eyes due to the glasses.

"For what?" he asked.

"I know what you did," said Harry. "It took me awhile to see it, but then I got to thinking about that day when I met Padma again, you don't usually lose papers, and it wasn't just chance that she was interviewing you right then, was it? Or that the Minister calls just then. So, 'fess up. You hooked us up, didn't you?"

Draco grinned. "Maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means that while I wasn't hoping for a long term relationship between you two, I was giving you both a chance to realize that there are nice people out there."

"And for yourself?" Harry asked, knowing that Draco's motives were hardly ever altruistic.

"Did you know that the economy tends to do better when a popular figure is in a good relationship? That means that if you and Padma ever break up, you have to warn me first so I can prepare for a regression."

"You got us together for the economy?" asked Harry, incredulous.

"And for the paparazzi to stop following me and start following you two," Draco admitted. "But you don't mind."

"What if I do?"

"You don't," said Draco, with a smirk on his lips. Dragon ran from where he was at the front of the group with Pansy back to Draco, who scooped him up. "Hey kiddo," said Draco to the boy, who was content to be carried the rest of the way to the Ministry.

"You do realize that your picture with him is going to be in all of the tabloids tomorrow," said Harry.

Draco nodded, but couldn't bring himself to care.

May 20th had become a wizarding holiday, Remembrance Day. The States had been far removed from the war and so the day had been celebrated there with parades and the loud playing and singing of "Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead", a Muggle song from the movie the Wizard of Oz. In England it was celebrated with a somber ceremony in the late morning, and then picnics or lunches spent with family. Draco sort of missed the song; he thought it was fitting.

The memorial this year was going to be held outside the Ministry of Magic building as the groundbreaking ceremony for the new wing on the Ministry, the museum dedicated to all those who fought in the war, and nearly all of London was invited. In fact, nearly all of London had arrived by the time Draco and company arrived, but they had designated seating in the front because Draco was to give a presentation so they didn't have to arrive early to reserve seating.

The set-up outside the Ministry looked much like the arrangement for the ceremony outside of Hogwarts six years ago, though with not as many chairs. Ginny was waiting for them at their seats and Draco snagged the one next to her because she had his notes, or at least that was a convenient excuse. Ginny was looking particularly pretty in a dress that was the color that caused debates on whether it was dark blue or purple. That and he couldn't bear the thought of sitting through a bunch of boring speeches without her quirky remarks and silent giggles.

"Everything all set?" he asked, sinking into the chair next to her.

"Of course," she said handing him the folder containing his speech. "You're on after Lupin introduces you. Unfortunately he is after a whole row of people including the former Minister Fudge."

He groaned; she laughed then stopped as the Assistant Minister took the podium on the temporary stage.

"Can I please have your attention?" he asked to quiet the crowd down. "Thank you and welcome to the sixth anniversary of the defeat of You-Know-Who."

"Do they really still call him that over here?" Draco asked in a whisper to Ginny.

"Only the politicians. They think it will jinx their speech," she whispered back. "Most people have gotten over it though."

"I would like all of us to take these next few moments to reflect on those who have fallen in this war." He stepped back and bowed his head as silence fell over the group. He stepped back up to the podium not ten seconds later. "Thank you. And now a few words from our Minister of Defense."

"That wasn't a few minutes," said Ginny in his ear. "I think they're afraid people will start falling asleep if they keep quiet for too long. Of course we know it's the other way around."

Draco's lips twitched but he fought the smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Weldon," said the Secretary of Defense. "And thank you all for coming this morning to the Remembrance Day Memorial. As Secretary of Defense it is my job to insure that the peace and sovereignty of the English Wizarding World is not threatened….," the Secretary droned on and Draco zoned out. The wind was gently blowing and Ginny's hair, which was down in loose curls, brushed against his arm, completely noticeable through the thin silk of his shirt.

He pulled his mind back to reality when Fudge took the stand then let it wander again as Fudge jumped into a self-gratifying speech, starting with, "I'll keep this brief." An hour later and he was immensely glad when Lupin took the stage and began to speak, his quiet words holding no pride, only sincerity.

"We have seen many difficult times," he said, his soft voice carrying nicely with the magnifying podium. "And we have seen dark and dangerous ones as well. Many of us in our struggles have forgotten what the good times were like, but now we need no reminder because I believe that I can say without any fear of falsehood that these are good times again." There was genuine applause and Lupin paused until it had past then continued. "As much as we may not like to remember the dark times, it is important that we do. Not just so we may avoid the trap of prejudice and hate that plunged us into the terror, but so we that we do not forget those who gave their lives that we today may reap the benefits." More applause, though quieter as his words struck the hearts of the audience gathered.

"I am pleased to announce," Lupin resumed, "that a plan nearly three years in the making, will finally see its official beginning today. Long has the Ministry desired to see a memorial to commemorate the events of this long battle and today you will get to see the dream become a reality with the help of our own Draco Malfoy."

"Hey, that's you," Ginny said softly in his ear.

Draco's lips twitched again.

"And now, to give you all a much better explanation of what exactly is taking place than I could ever give, here is Mr. Malfoy himself."

Draco rose, hearing Ginny's whispered 'Good luck' over the applause and jogged up the stairs to the stage. He shook the Minister's hand then took the podium.

"Good morning," he said. "A few months ago the Minister contacted me with the idea for a memorial for those who had died in the war and I immediately knew that this was one of the greatest things that I would ever take part in. The only problem I could think of was: How are we to give the greatest men and women of our time the amount of honor that we owe them? So instead of boring you all with a long-winded speech, I decided to show you the answer. The answer begins with a wall right back there."

Draco pointed to the back of the audience and as the members turned, he pressed a button on the metal box Ginny had placed earlier on the podium. A wall of light shot up in the back as the audience gasped in surprise and appreciation. The light was a mix of Muggle 3-D holographic imaging and magic. The wall looked so real that the cracks of brick were visible.

"On that wall is a time line and a display of the artifacts of the war." He pressed another button and the faint image of a timeline and display cases appeared. "As the visitors walk forward they are able to read about different events that took place in the war, such as the first appearance of Voldemort to the birth of Harry Potter," he smirked in Harry's direction as the Boy-Who-Lived glared, "to the final battle." He pressed the third button and two more walls appeared at the sides of the audience. "The room will be lit by natural light," said Draco, flipping a switch and looking up as the holographical ceiling was put in place. It would be made of clear planes of glass held up by sculpted marble pillars that also appeared. "And by candles at night." Intricately woven candelabras appeared at measured intervals on the walls.

"The memorial will also hold a dedication to those who survived," said Draco, pushing another button as lights appeared in the middle of the audience, this time forming little islands of pictures in cases. Draco let the audience members play with the lights that had appeared right in them by running their hands through it and laughing before continuing.

"The answer ends with a wall as well," said Draco, calling their attention back to him. "A wall at the end that lists every one who fought in the war, those living and those who died." He pushed the final button and the last wall appeared, finishing the structure. Draco let them take in the entire building of light before turning the box off. The light disappeared leaving them in sunlight once more. "Work on the Memorial starts today and in eight months it will be fully functional and open to the public. Thank you."

Draco stepped away from the podium to thunderous applause and headed back to his seat while the Minister concluded the ceremony.

"Excellent job, mate," said Fred, once the ceremony was over and people began leaving.

"Bloody brilliant," agreed George, both of them slapping him on the back.

"It was rather exciting," said Blaise, nonchalantly.

"You had to mention me, didn't you," said Harry.

"Of course," said Draco. "I plan on having an entire section of the wall dedicated to you, although your mummified remains would have been such a better attraction piece."

"As long as you don't start charging money," said Harry.

"It would help insure a stable economy," said Draco shrugging.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next week found Draco once again checking his reflection in the mirror in his office, but this time instead of wearing a green silk shirt and dress pants, he was wearing a long-sleeved orange t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Both were courtesy of Ginny who told him that they were so he didn't look all snobbish when he showed up in dress robes at the Cannon's first Quidditch match of the year. He grimaced, never being that fond of orange. Potter was right; he should have bought them better colors.

Ginny opened the door with her eyes shut.

"Are you done changing?" she asked.

"You know, you could have knocked," he said.

She opened her eyes and smiled. "It's more fun this way." She stepped in all the way and looked him over critically. He took the opportunity to look her over as well. She had on baggy jeans and a tight orange sweater. Her hair was thrown back into a ponytail and, as usual, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was.

"Will I do?" he asked, tearing his mind away from wandering to far in Ginny's direction.

"I suppose," she said grinning. "Although you took so long primping we probably missed half the game."

"We have not," said Draco indignantly. "And it was a phone conference that ran late, I was not primping."

"Sure," she said. "I believe you. Now can we go already?"

He laughed at her impatience, but slid his cell phone into his pocket and they took the Floo to Warren Stadium. Warren Stadium was one of three permanent Quidditch fields hidden from the Muggle eye; however, because they were kept hidden, they were much smaller than the stadium that would be set up for the World Cup, which was being held in a remote plain in Northern England.

They arrived underneath the stands, slapping Floo powder from their clothes. Wizards and witches had parked their carts there and were shouting out sales for sweets and souvenirs. Draco bought two omnioculars and handed one to Ginny.

"Where are we sitting?" she asked.

"Top center," said Draco. "This way." They started for a stairwell, but Draco caught sight of a burly, brown haired man and froze.

"Shit," he whispered under his breath. "Shit, shit, shit. This way, Ginevra," he said grabbing her arm and turning her around, but it was too late.

"Malfoy!" came the shout behind him.

Draco stopped and closed his eyes.

"Who is it?" Ginny whispered to him. Draco opened his eyes to see her concerned face peering into his.

"Theodore Nott's older brother. The only reason he wasn't a Death Eater was because he was in Africa doing who knows what. Stay here, alright?"

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because if this gets messy, I don't want you hurt," he said, and gave her a push to head off and then turned around.

"Oh, hello, Richard," he drawled. "Come to see the game have you?"

The larger man took a few steps closer so that he was right in Draco's space and his hot breath blew into his face. Draco just stared at him with his 'Lucius' expression on, one of disinterest, disgust, and danger.

"You, Malfoy, will pay for what you did to my family," Nott growled.

"Unfortunately, I don't conduct business at Quidditch games," said Draco. "You'll have to stop by the office, but call ahead first so you can schedule an appointment, alright?"

Nott tensed and for a split second Draco thought he was going to take a swing at him, but then there was the bright flash of a camera. Both men turned their heads to see Colin Creevy, photographer for the Daily Prophet standing with Ginny.

"You will pay, Malfoy," said Nott. "Mark my words."

He knocked into Draco on the way out, his shoulder hitting Draco rather painfully in the chest and there was another flash.

"Thanks, Colin," said Ginny to the blond who never really grew anymore after sixth year.

"Anytime Ginny," said Colin. "Hiya, Draco. Don't suppose I can have a real picture of you now, can I?"

Draco smiled slightly. "I can do one better." He pulled out a business card and handed it to Colin. "Go down to the team locker rooms. This will get you past security and you can get a pre-game picture of the Cannons."

"Wow. Thanks Draco!" the photographer enthused. "I better get going if I'm going to make it." He practically sprinted away and Draco turned to Ginny.

"Thanks," he said.

She shrugged. "I just didn't want to miss the game because I had to escort my boss to the hospital," she said, leading the way up the stairs.

"I could have taken him," said Draco, following her.

She laughed. "He had fifty pounds on you, Malfoy. Not really a fair fight."

"I know some dirty tricks," said Draco. "Slytherin, remember?"

"How could I forget," she said. "Setting up Harry and Padma for the economy?"

"And to keep the paparazzi away from me," said Draco.

"Exactly my point," said Ginny.

"What?" asked Draco. "They like each other."

"So the end justifies the means?" she asked.

"Sometimes," said Draco. "Only sometimes."

Draco was glad when they reached their top box because his legs were starting to burn from walking up that many stairs. The family, minus the younger children, who were being babysat by Rolly at Draco's house, were already there, talking excitedly.

"Ah, the man of the hour arrives," said Fred as he and Ginny stepped into the seating area.

"Fashionably late," said George. "Though not so fashionably dressed."

"Ginevra's fault," said Draco.

"Good job, Ginny," said George.

"We were wondering if he was ever going to stop dressing like a rich prat," said Fred.

"I am a rich prat," said Draco.

"Point taken," said Fred.

"Dully noted," said George.

Draco smirked and then stared as he caught sight of Snape. "Is he really wearing an orange scarf?" he asked Fred and George.

"Hermione did that," said Fred.

"Said he needed to show some support or he'd be taken as a Ballycastle Bat fan," said George.

"I think it's a good color on him," said Blaise, coming over.

Draco just shook his head and joined his godfather who was sitting in the front row corner chair looking anything but enthused.

"Nice sc-," he started.

"Don't even," said Snape, coolly. "Or you will end up with a particularly nasty potion in your coffee tomorrow."

"Are you threatening me, Sev?" Draco asked, eyes wide in mock surprise.

"Yes," said Snape.

Draco couldn't help but laugh and then the rest of the family took their seats as the announcer's voice rang out over the crowd.

"Attention please. Warren Stadium would like to welcome you all to the first match of a new season: the Ballycastle Bats against our own Chudley Cannons!" There was a huge cheer from the orange clad spectators below and Ginny, who was sitting on the other side of Draco, gripped his hand in excitement.

"And now please give a warm welcome for our visitors. Playing for the Bat team: Derek Williams, Jeffery Higgins,.."

"How much of a chance do we have?" Ginny asked, rather loudly in his ear to be heard over the 'boos' that the crowd was emitting at a rather impressive decibel level.

"Depends," said Draco. "They have better Chaser's, just because they have been playing together for six years now, but our Keeper is better."

"How good is their Seeker?" asked Ginny.

"Davis is good because he has such incredible speed. He watches the other Seeker and once the other Seeker spots the Snitch, he pretty much chases them down and steals it from under their nose. Harry knows that so he won't go for the Snitch unless he is sure that he can get it."

"And now the players of the Chudley Cannons. Beaters Rick Bradbury and Jason Wells, Chasers Sadie Marks, Stephen Corning, Alison Stiles. Our Keeper Oliver Wood and our Seeker, the Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of the Wizarding World, the Defeater of You-Know-Who, our very own, Harry Potter!"

Draco rose to his feet and cheered along with the hundreds of fans in the crowd. Seven orange blurs raced out onto the field, swooping once around the players in black with the red bat symbol on their backs and then flew up right in front the box Draco and the family was in and saluted.

Harry was grinning, so Draco figured it was his idea. He scowled at the players who grinned and then flew back down.

"And the team gives homage to their financial supporter, Draco Malfoy," said the announcer in his magically amplified voice. The spotlights that had been roaming around the stadium came to rest on their box and Draco scowled even further.

The lights left as the announcer continued. "And now our referee takes the field, the world renowned Harris Wendon!" More cheers, gradually growing louder until it reached a crescendo as the referee set the box of Quidditch balls on the ground, then blew his whistle, kicked open the box, and leaped onto his broom.

The players immediately launched themselves into the game. The Bats got control of the Quaffle first and sent it down the goal, but Wood easily saved it and sent it to Marks who sent it to Stiles, who passed it to Corning, but it was intercepted by the Bats. Beside him Ginny yelled near profanities at the players in black along with the rest of the crowd beneath them and Draco couldn't help but smile.

Corning recovered the Quaffle and sent it to Marks who scored and the Cannon's pulled ahead at 10-0. The goal was met with fierce cheering from the crowd and the occupants of the top box went crazy, well, most of them. Draco merely cheered and Sev applauded politely.

Draco looked through his omnioculars to watch Harry who was circling the field, his eyes darting all around the sky for the Snitch. He suddenly got a rather wicked look on his face and zoomed straight towards one the Ballycastle Bat Chasers and Davis, the Bat Seeker, took off after him.

"Does he see the Snitch?" Hermione asked, anxiously.

"He's testing him," said Ron, calling it for what it was. "He wants to see how good Davis is."

Harry veered right at the last possible second; Davis was right on his tail.

"Damn he's good," said Draco. Ginny gave a noncommittal 'Mmmm' as she too tracked Harry's progress.

"I'd like to see what he does on a Wronski Feint," said Charlie.

"Second hour," said Draco.

"What?" asked Charlie, looking over.

"In the second hour he's pulling a Wronski," said Draco, who as the sole supporter of the Cannon's, knew some of the game plan.

"Sweet," said Bill.

For a couple of seconds about half an hour into the game, it looked as if there wasn't going to be a second hour. Harry spotted the Snitch and spiked into the air at an incredible rate, Davis bolting after him, but Bat beater sent a bludger straight at Harry's head and he was forced to roll and when he had recovered, the Snitch was no where in sight. There was a moan from the crowd but a round of appreciative applause.

By the second hour the score was at a relatively low 50-80 with the Bat's in the lead. Twenty minutes into the hour Harry went plummeting straight for the ground causing the audience to go wild as Davis pulled even to Harry, but then Davis switched positions so that he was right over Harry's back.

"That's illegal!" Draco yelled, jumping to his feet with the rest of the Weasleys when he realized what was happening. Davis was preventing Harry from pulling out of the feint, a move that was sure to be a foul when it was used again, but this was the first time in history something like this had ever happened.

The crowd went silent as every eye fastened on the plunging figure of the boy-hero. Even Wood was staring, letting the Quaffle sail right past him and through the left hoop.

"Damn it, Harry. Pull up," Draco muttered. Ginny's hand latched onto Draco's arm and he tensed as Harry's impact with the ground drew closer, but just when Harry's was about to hit, he pulled a ninety degree right turn so that he went skimming over the grass, so close that his shoes left gouges in the turf where they dragged. Davis wasn't so lucky. He was expecting the Seeker to pull up and straight and as he pulled up sharply the back of his broom hit the ground and he landed flat on his butt, skidding to a stop.

Draco let out the breath he realized he had been holding as Harry rose into the air, taking a quick lap around the field to the thundering cheers that had broken out from a relieved and extremely impressed audience. The cheers turned to laughter as Davis stiffly resumed his position on his broom.

Enraged by the attack on their Seeker and encouraged by his victory, the Cannon's fell to the game with a renewed energy and resolve and within fifteen minutes they had pulled ahead 140-90. By the third hour the score was 180-120 and then Harry pulled another Wronski, but this time he had actually seen the Snitch. Davis held back, afraid he would be ploughed into the ground again, and so Harry easily pulled out of the dive, the Snitch caught in his gloved fingers and held aloft for the crowd to see.

Pandemonium broke out as the crowd screamed its approval. Severus was on his feet clapping, Mrs. Weasley was crying, the couples kissing, and Ginny laughing in relief then turning to jump into Draco's arms. Draco caught her, rather surprised, but spinning her around in the limited space available.

He set her down and they both turned to the field, hooting as Harry landed his broom, ran to Padma, who had been covering the game on camera, and twirled her, dipped her, and kissed her soundly, not caring that the camera men were zooming the recording devices right in their faces. The crowd hollered all the more, and after presenting Padma with the Snitch, Harry regained his broom and took a victory lap with the rest of the team.

The crowd didn't dissipate for half an hour after the game. They kept cheering and the Cannon's were forced to take three more laps around the crowd, finally zooming straight into the locker rooms and finally the fans got the hint and started packing up. The occupants on the top box filtered out as well. The married couples were all heading out to separate dates, and Mrs. Weasley went home stating she was tired and Sev had a potion to tend to, and that left Draco and Ginny alone in the box.

"Do you want to get some dinner?" Draco asked Ginny, who was lounging across two chairs.

"Let's go some place where we won't be known," said Ginny.

"Do you want to be daring and hit Muggle London?" asked Draco.

"Sounds nice," said Ginny.

They took the Floo back to Diagon Alley and then exited the Wizarding World by the entrance by the Leaky Cauldron. Dusk was falling but it was a pleasant evening so they wandered aimlessly before finding a cute little diner that didn't have the best food, but it was a cheerful, well-lit place that seemed popular with young couples. They both ordered a cheeseburger with fries and Draco took a coffee while Ginny had a soda. She blew the straw wrapper at him and he retaliated by flicking a sugar packet at her.

It was fun, he decided as he licked a bit of ketchup off his finger, to forget that he was the CEO of three companies and a dozen more overseas and just to act like any normal twenty-three year old. Ginny looked happy as well. She was constantly smiling and the conversation was never forced, easily switching between serious subjects and ones with absolutely no rhyme or reason to them.

"I'm serious," said Ginny. "I could see you as a Potions Professor."

"You've got to be kidding me," Draco laughed. "I mean, I like potions and I'm good at them, but teaching them? Do you want to know why Sev is how he is today? It is the Potions classes and all those close calls that made him the snarky bastard we all know and love. Would you really like to see me like that?"

"Well, you have the bastard part down," said Ginny.

"Hey," said Draco, indignantly.

"I'll amend that," said Ginny. "You can play the bastard part really well."

He smiled. "I'll accept that," he said.

"So what could you see me as?" Ginny asked.

He thought for a moment. "A Healer," he said.

It was her turn to laugh. "No way," she said. "I don't like the sight of blood. I get nauseas and sometimes I throw up."

"Are you serious?" Draco asked. "I remember you being fine running the infirmary after the last battle, and you didn't look sick at all."

"Only because I was too busy to think about it," she confessed. "I'm a right girl when it comes to blood."

"But you do have the nice part down," said Draco. "You have to admit, you get that whole kind, caring thing from your mother."

"Unfortunately so," said Ginny. "It was taken advantage of in my childhood by my brothers who knew that if they were ever sick, or faked being sick, I would pretty much do anything for them. I learned my lesson pretty early on though. What was it like as an only child?"

Draco shrugged. "It was alright, I suppose. I mean, I got everything I ever wanted, scratch that. I always got it before I even wanted it. It was a lot of trying to live up to expectations, and I'm sort of glad I didn't have siblings. When I was a child, everything had to be about me. As I grew older, I just wanted to have a normal life, do my own thing without Lucius' telling me what to do, and that was the only time I ever wanted a brother, if only to keep Lucius' off my back. Rather cruel, I suppose, to want another human to take the pressure off of me, for Lucius' to be mad at him and not me."

"I don't think so," said Ginny. "No one should have to go through that."

"Maybe not," said Draco. "But sometimes I wonder, if Lucius' hadn't treated me like that, I wonder if I would have denied the mark or not."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think you would have," she said. "We are not only defined by our experiences but also our own inherent nature. You could have easily gone the wrong way, become hard and bitter because of the way Lucius' treated you, but you didn't. If anything you chose the harder path, and that makes me believe that it wasn't Lucius that made you turn, it was your own self."

Her bright hazel eyes were sincere, and he noticed that there were flecks of gold in them. He smiled and reached across the table to take her hand.

"Thank you," he said. He had a feeling he hadn't meant anything more than he meant those two words. She smiled back.

He walked her to her apartment as it was dark out, but too nice of a night to Apparate.

"Thank you for dinner, Draco," Ginny said once they reached her apartment building.

"No problem," said Draco. "It was fun. I needed that."

"I did too," said Ginny. She reached out to give him a hug, but somehow their lips got in the way, and before Draco fully realized what was happening, one of his hands was encircling her waist pulling her closer and the other was on the back of her neck, tilting her head up to his. Her own hands slid up his arms and neck until she buried them in his hair. He groaned against her lips which parted and he crushed his mouth harder against hers, delving deeper into the kiss, feeling her respond by pushing herself closer into him. For one surreal moment, Draco swore he was bewitched. His body was numb, except for the places where she was pressed flush against him. Those parts felt as if they were burning with a cruel heat that sent shocks of ecstasy straight to his brain which was vaguely noting that the world seemed to be spinning itself round and round.

He came back to earth with a jolt and staggered back a step as the fingers, which had been tangled in his hair, pressed against his chest and pushed. He blinked, breathed in a ragged breath, and forced his eyes to focus on Ginny, who was looking some what dazed. She licked her slightly swollen lips, an act that made him want to step forward and claim them again, and attempted to smooth out her clothes.

"Look, Draco," she said. "I-we can't, that is…We can't do this."

He stared at her, his brain trying to assemble itself and take in exactly what she was saying.

"I mean, you're my boss," she said. "That and I am far to busy to think about a relationship right now."

"Okay," he said slowly. She seemed to be growing more distraught by the minute.

"It's not you, Draco," she said. "Merlin knows it isn't you, but I can't do this right now. I'm not ready for this. I hadn't been planning, I mean, I never thought, I…this was a mistake, alright? We're colleagues and friends, nothing more. Let's just forget this ever happened. Thank you for tonight, it really was lovely."

And with that she ran into her apartment. Draco stared after her, wanting to do nothing more than to run after her and kiss all of her doubts away but then the logical side of him showed him exactly what he had done. He had kissed Ginevra Weasley. No, it was more than that. He had fallen for her, and fallen hard. He knew the reasons he could never be with her, and it was time for him to remember them. They may be secret, but they were reasons none-the-less.

He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and decided that a walk around town might clear his head. With that he set out at a brisk pace, destination: no where.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, sorry it was late (I was sick), but it has the much-sought after D/G interactions and that was the first real kissing scene I have ever written. So, let me know what you think, what you feel, were you moved, disgusted, just plain confused? Read and review!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would have a masseuse give me a back massage. Every day. For the rest of my life. And then I would feel really good everyday. : ) And thanks to

louey31: there will be more d/g encounters, just not in this chpt., sry, but I promise more later on

FroggHopper: I know, if I were Ginny, I would have kept him, more d/g but not in this chpt, sorry to you too

GPGA: one of the best? That make me really happy and fuzzy inside! Yay!

Angelique Collins: I know, secret reasons, muwhahaha, but more to be revealed in not this chpt, but maybe the next one, or the one after that, and I will explain it all

Wizzabee: you're one of two that picked up the secret reasons part, go you!

QuinkyDink: hey, constructive criticism, I love it, and I know what you mean, this next chpt is on the intense side, so I threw in something at the end

Guineviere: thanks for the review, I luv Dragon too

Melanie: thanks, and I will see this through to the end

Lin: you and your friends? Cool, thanks for the review

mierette: thank you a lot, I'm glad that you see me improving as a writer, its on of the best compliments I writer could get

mask: luv ya babe ; )

padfootedmoony: thanks, I appreciate it

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny and Draco didn't talk about the kiss, and working with her after the…incident wasn't as hard as Draco thought it would be. Things were a little tense for the week afterwards, but gradual they settled back into their boss/manager routine and a month later Ginny was acting as if the incident had never happened. Two months later and Draco's mind still flashed back to the kiss every time he saw her, but he was still an excellent actor, and no one noticed that his eyes would linger on her as she left his office after a meeting or briefing.

It was August now, and England was once again one of the most prosperous nations in the world, thanks to Draco's efforts. Harry and Padma were still going steady and the Cannon's were in the World Cup, scheduled for August 29, a Saturday. The hype had been steadily rising all throughout the summer until the whole of Diagon Alley was covered in orange streamers.

No one saw it coming. In hindsight, Emmeric had in fact seen the whole thing, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. It was the first Tuesday in August and Draco was playing outside with the family. Playing his and the Weasley twins patented 'capture the flag' game in fact. The entire family was involved, minus Mrs. Weasley and Emmeric. Mrs. Weasley was cooking and Emmeric was complaining of a headache again, and was sitting against a tree, scowling with a book in his hands, as he watched the family play.

"Explrimas!" Zak was shouting at Harry with a play wand as the boy hero and Draco went at it, each trying to 'X' the other's shirt.

"Unfair, Zak!" Harry cried. "That's two against one!"

"You're the bloody Boy-Who-Lived," laughed Draco. "Or are you going to meet your down fall at the hands of a child like your nemesis?"

"Very funny, Malfoy," said Harry, ducking under a curse. "And no matter what any one says, you were my first nemesis."

"I'm touched, really," said Draco, launching himself towards Harry in a surprise attack.

Harry rebuffed his attempts, but then stared as a blue X appeared on his shirt. Snape stepped out from behind a tree, smirking widely.

"Unfair," Harry protested again. "You were hiding."

"Slytherin," said Snape and Draco together.

"I think you're dumb luck is running out," said Draco.

"It had better not be," said Harry. "We still have the World Cup. Weren't you counting on my dumb luck winning it for us?"

"Change of plans," said Draco. "I really am going to buy the Cup."

There was movement behind him, and Draco whipped around and took a hex straight to the chest and an X blossomed on his shirt as well. Ginny smirked, ducking out from behind a tree and sending a curse at Snape as well, however the former spy had much better aim and reflexes and managed to peg her first.

"You were hiding," said Draco to Ginny as they walked to the sidelines with Harry to sit out. "That's not very Gryffindor."

"I've been hanging out with too many Slytherins," said Ginny, shrugging.

They had just reached the boundary when the screaming started. Draco immediately took off with Harry and Ginny towards the noise and found Emmeric doubled over on the ground, his fingers clutching at his temples as he screamed bloody murder. The rest of the players came as well, Penny and Percy skidding to their knees beside their son as his body began to convulse.

"Emmeric? Emric, can you hear me?" Penny shouted over the boy's cries. She pulled him into her lap as the convulsions slowly died out, leaving his limbs twitching slightly from the after affects. "Emric, what happened?" she asked, her voice full of worry and fear.

The boy's black eyes opened, blinking away tears as his breath came in shuddering sobs.

"Could-could hear them," he said, his voice catching on a sob. "They were screaming and-and the ground was breaking."

"Who was screaming?" asked Penny, desperately.

"Everyone," said Emmeric, the tears building up again as his breathing increased. "Everyone was screaming and things were breaking and I could see it all!" He fought to sit up, but Penny held him down. "People are going to die!" he yelled. "All of them dying, all of them…," he trailed off and when he spoke again, it was in an ethereal whisper. "The earth hungers and when she opens her mouth she will devour all, for who is more fitting to feed her, than her own children?" He gave one last shudder then his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he went limp.

"He's a Seer," said Snape quietly from the back of the concerned group that was huddled around the child. Everyone turned back to look at him. He shrugged. "I've suspected it for a while now. The insomnia, his extraordinary insight, have you ever held a conversation with him? It also explains the moodiness. Often times a young Seer becomes very withdrawn and subdued before their first vision."

"You knew and you didn't day anything?" asked Percy, rather indignantly.

"It was only an assumption," said Snape shrugging. "And wouldn't have things been worse if you had known and were trying to ask about it? He would have just withdrawn even further."

His words were the truth and no one pressed the matter. Emmeric was taken inside and placed on a bed where Penny and Percy stayed with him. The rest called the game off early and while the children played, the adults discussed the words of the young Seer.

"It sounded traumatic, what ever it was," said Pansy.

"Something about a mother eating her children," said Charlie.

"Earthquake," said Draco quietly. Everyone turned to look at him. "He said that the ground was breaking. And that bit about the mother devouring her children? That's Mother Earth. He said the ground was breaking too. That can be an earthquake, and from the sound of it, it's going to be a big one."

"Yeah," said Bill. "But when?"

They weren't kept in suspense for too long. That Thursday in the early morning Draco was woken from his slumber by a slight tremor in the ground. He was immediately wide awake and grabbing his wand as the earth shook yet again.

"Master!" cried Rolly, popping in even as Draco was pulling a pair of pants on over his boxers. "Master, the ground is shaking!"

"Yes, Rolly," said Draco. "Go get all the rest of the elves and go to the green study, alright? It's safest there." He pulled on a shirt, grabbed his watch, and then his radio. "Go, Rolly! That's where I'm going as well."

The elf disappeared and another tremor rocked the house, causing Draco to stumble as he made his way down the stairs. The Green Study had no windows and very few large objects. Draco figured it was the best place to be as there wasn't really anything that could fall on top of them and smush them.

The earthquake never got too bad at the Estate. It was only serious enough to shake a few things off of a couple of shelves, but the mansion was situated quite a ways from London and Diagon Alley. All the while, Draco was trying to find a radio station that was broadcasting so that he could know what the damage was like in the city, but the only thing he was able to pick up was a Muggle station with a frantic news anchor blathering on. He glanced at his watch. The quake had started at five in the morning; it was now five-thirty and things seemed to be settling down. At five-forty he went back to his room, changed into black, baggy jeans and a blue shirt, put his cell phone in his pocket, and Apparated onto the outskirts of London. He didn't bother staying around the Muggle section, but headed straight to Diagon Alley.

It was a mess. Shops were completely collapsed, broken glass and wooden beans littering the roads, while people slowly began appearing to pick through the rubble. Draco was suddenly reminded of the war, the haunted look on the survivors faces for days afterwards, watching as life dealt them a crippling blow and all they could do was observe. Within minutes emergency personnel had arrived on the scene and Draco headed to his office building to see the damage and to get out of the way.

His building was still up, as were many of the office buildings. Draco went straight into the deserted building and to his office. His laptop was still sitting on his desk, though the pictures had fallen from the walls and the bookcases had toppled over. He flipped his computer on and then picked up as best as he could while the laptop booted. Once it was on he sent a quick email to the Minister.

Minister,  
Will give any support needed.  
Draco Malfoy

There was an almost immediate response which led Draco to believe that Lupin was in his own office as well with nothing to do until the damage reports came in.

Draco,  
We need to meet. Can you make a portkey to my office? The wards are down now so you can come by. If you need a portkey, I can send you one.  
Remus Lupin, Minister of Magic

Relieved to be finally doing something, Draco pulled out the stress ball Shelia kept in his desk drawer for him and pointed his wand at it. Muttering 'Portus' he shoved his laptop into his carrying bag and grabbed hold of the squishy sphere.

The world spun round him rather sickeningly and he appeared in the large round office of Minister Lupin, staggering a bit before he fully found his footing.

"Ah, Draco," said Lupin, coming forward and shaking his hand. "Thank you for coming here. Please have a seat; there is much we need to discuss."

Draco sat on one of the gold brocade couches, Lupin sitting across from him, and he noted that the Minister's office seemed very much intact. He wondered if it was because there was a charm on the room, or if his aides had come in a cleaned up already.

"I'm going to be blunt, Draco," said Lupin, looking very old at the moment, old and weary. "There's been a lot of damage and I don't know if the economy can handle another hit like this. Most insurance companies don't cover earthquakes and those that do will be swamped with the amount of rebuilding that must take place. Any smart business man would pack his bags and leave, and I know that doing so may be the best option for you because you have so many other companies around the world-,"

"No," said Draco firmly, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving."

Lupin smiled, obviously relieved. "Then here is what I am proposing. Normally, relief efforts would come straight from the Ministry. Unfortunately I inherited this office with a great deal of debt, and so any involvement by the Ministry will only put the nation further in debt which will once again throw the economy into turmoil. I want you to lead the relief efforts. I will give you use of Ministry employees such as Aurors and the Magical Enforcement Squad, however, being in charge means paying for all of this. Accepting this responsibility could ruin you, it could cause major bankruptcy, but if you pull this off, the Ministry is prepared to pay you back with interest, and England will be saved."

Draco stared at Lupin. Him? In charge of all of the relief efforts? He was twenty-three for Merlin's sake, but at the same time, the little voice in the back of his head knew he was the only one with the recourses and the business savvy to pull it off.

"If you want a couple of minutes to think things over, I understand," said Lupin.

"I'll do it," said Draco. "On a couple of conditions. One, the base of operations is right here. If people see things happening from the Ministry, it will give them a better sense of security. Two, I want to pick my own team to run this shindig and three, no reporters get in here. I don't need some reporters hanging over my every move like vultures."

"Done," said Lupin. "What do you need first?"

"Coffee," said Draco. "Coffee and Ginevra Weasley."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're insane," said Ginny. "You do know that, right? That you are absolutely, certifiably insane."

"I've had my suspicions," said Draco as his business manager paced in front of him. Already the Minister's large conference room that was right off of his office had been turned into the Headquarters for the relief effort. It was seven am and Shelia was in one corner of the room sorting through damage reports and several other people were pasting up large maps of Diagon Alley and the surrounding wizarding world and housing developments.

He glanced at the people gathered around the side table piled with coffee machines and hot water boilers. There was Simon Crow, his CEO of New Foundations along with the head logistician and head architect, Samantha Daniels and the young Jon Carter. His CEO of Alchemists, Randy Jenson was present as was MagicTec lead technicians Mr. and Mrs. Jeremy Rook, who were setting up computers and phone lines.

Lupin entered the room, seemingly shocked at the amount of damage Draco had already inflicted on the conference room. Right now it was hard to move without tripping over wires or without getting in the way of the countless owls that were flying in the open window and dropping off even more parchments at the already swamped Shelia.

"Some one's here to see you," said Lupin, jerking his head towards the door that lead to his office.

"Thanks," said Draco. "And I swear, I'll pay for the damages."

"Get this country running again and I'll pay for them myself," said Lupin, who seemed to be taking it rather well. Draco nodded and headed for the door. Padma was sitting on one of the brocade couches along with a camera man and a sound technician.

"Padma," said Draco, "I'm sorry, but no reporters."

"I understand," she said. "How about a documentary?"

"What?" asked Draco.

"The public deserves to know what happened here, and while reporters publishing and critiquing your every move will only create a hindrance, I want to record exactly what happened here. I swear I'll only release it after this whole thing is over."

Draco frowned. "What's in it for you?"

"The Creevey Award for journalism," said Padma. "Colin's won it for five years straight now."

"It was named after him," said Draco, who remembered the collage of pictures of the last battle that had prompted the creation of a reward for the news world.

"It's the chance of a lifetime for me," said Padma. "We won't be in the way."

"Alright," said Draco. "But not a word to anyone what happens here. Not even Harry."

"Deal," she said.

"Alright, now come on in, we're about to start."

Draco entered the room to find that everyone was seated around the table, although Shelia was still at the desk in the corner opening mail. More people had come in, including the Head of Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Lisa Sable, head of Public Relations, Jason Camping, the head of the Magical Enforcement Squad and Tom Statis the top economist.

Draco stood at the head of the table and looked out at everyone.

"Good morning," he said. "And congratulations. You are about to do something entirely wonderful, something that will make you forever remembered as a hero. Right now there are people outside weeping over the loss of loved ones. Right now there are people out there crying because their whole way of life has just been crushed before their eyes. Right now, they are hopeless, lost, confused, angry, scared, and they have no idea what is going to happen to them. Right now, we are sitting here with the fate of the English Wizarding World in our hands, and we are not going to fail them. So once again, congratulations." He paused and let his words sink in before continuing. "Now this," said Draco, gesturing to Ginny, "is my business manager, and right now she's your business manager as well. She's going to give you the statistics so far, so please pay attention to Ms. Ginevra Weasley."

Draco sat down and Ginny stood up and looked around the room. Draco listened to her confident voice as he looked over the report put in front of him.

"I'm not going to lie," she said. "The amount of destruction is staggering. The death count is at one hundred and rising. Of the four thousand wizards that live in magical London, one thousand are homeless, and another one thousand have severe damage to their homes. One hundred and twenty businesses are completely destroyed, sixty are in need of extensive repair, and nearly all businesses won't be able to open for an undetermined amount of time as of yet. This isn't even beginning to discuss the economic repercussions of this disaster."

She sat back down and Draco closed the folder.

"Here's the plan," he said. "By tomorrow, we are going to have all of the roads cleared up and power restored to the business and home district. In one week, we are going to have every one back in their apartments and houses. In nine days we are going to have all businesses up and running again and in two weeks, the wizarding world in England will be right back where it was yesterday."

Those around the table just stared at him.

"Impossible," said Simon. "At our best, working day and night, we may be able to get half of the houses done, but one thousand in one week?"

"You forget that most of the housing is apartment buildings," said Draco.

"Alright, so may be we get three-fourths of the homeless back into homes. We still have two-fifty to worry about, plus that other one thousand with severe damage to their homes. Not only that, but these people have lost everything, all of their furniture, all of their clothes, what are they going to do about that? And how are we going to pay for all of my builders?"

"I'll be paying them," said Draco. "And as for clothing and what not, the charity organizations have enough money to at least get the people started, plus I expect a great deal of foreign aid as well. Not only will New Foundations be working on building up the homes, but I will be contracting the other construction companies as well."

"Where are we going to put them until their homes are done?" asked Kingsley. "We can't have them roaming the streets."

"There was a plan once in the Ministry," said Draco. "One where the possibility of a destroyed England was considered and so the Ministry bought a bunch of big tents, cots, and blankets. We will be putting those into use."

"We're putting them in tents?" asked Samantha.

"They have no where else to go," said Draco. "Those who can stay with friends and family are welcome to do so, but until then we will have to use the tents. That is why it is important to get them in their houses as quickly as possible. Which brings us to another topic. St. Mungo's is already full so we will have to put the not so ciritcally wounded in a medical tent as well and we will have to recall every medi-witch and wizard to be on duty. Any questions so far?"

There was silence across the table.

"Good," said Draco. "Now you are all an important part of this team. To keep all of you in touch, Jeremy and Sally Rook will give you all cell phones, and show you how to use them. It is important that you keep in communication with each other because to get this done as quickly and safely as possible every one needs to be aware of what is going on at the same time, got that?" There were nods so Draco continued. "Simon Crow, your job is to get every one of your men available and start clearing the streets and shifting through rubble for the injured. Go see Shelia over there when this meeting is over and she'll tell you where the worst damage is. Jason Camping, I need you to get your Magical Enforcement Squad to help Tom look for the wounded. I also need you to get a team of men that will be in charge of getting all of the wounded to St. Mungo's."

"Can do," said Tom, nodding.

"Good. Now Jon, I need you to survey the entire area affected by the quake and get a report for me by tomorrow telling me which places are in the worst shape. Randy, I want you to get all of your chemists and Potion Masters available so you can help stock up St. Mungo's with all of the medicines they will need."

"Our lab was destroyed," said Jenson.

"Alright, go get Severus Snape and he will take all of you to my house there's a lab in the basement. It's small but it will have to do. You can also use the private lab at St. Mungo's, just tell them that I sent you, they should let you in. Jon, find Randy here a suitable potions lab as soon as you can. Tom, I want you with my economists figuring out ways to help this economy get back up. Kinglsey, I want your Aurors protecting the shops that are still up. I don't want any looting, or at least as little as possible. I also want your men to find those tents and start setting them up. Lisa, you're in charge of informing the public of what is happening and to start directing them to the tents. It might be a little hard because they probably don't have any working radios, but I'm sure you'll figure out a way. I also need you to direct all medical personnel to the hospital. Samantha, as a logistician, you'll be working with Ginevra here. I want these people to know at all times what is going on so we can avoid accidents. Everybody clear on what they need to do?"

He looked around the table as those gathered nodded, looking apprehensive, but determined.

"I picked you because I know you will get this done," said Draco. "Alright, now get to it."

The occupants of the table practically sprang up. The Rooks had a hard time snagging them all to give them cell phones.

"Ginevra," said Draco to the red-head beside him. "I want you to find whoever is in charge of the Apparation points and get them working on clearing them. I also want to talk with the heads of the other construction agencies within the hour on helping to get the roads clear. Samantha, I want you to start up a program that will help us track the progress of everyone here. Shelia will help you use the computer if you need it. I'll be in the Minister's office making phone calls."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco worked well into the night, as did everyone else on the 'Operation: England team', or the Op. E's as Jon took to calling them. Right now he was alone in the conference room as Ginny and Samantha had taken off to find a late dinner. The roads were cleared out quicker than Draco expected them to and now the night shift was working on removing rubble from plots of land so that in the morning the houses could start going back up.

"Hey," said Padma, coming into the conference room.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" asked Draco. "It's almost one in the morning."

"I wanted to get a quick interview with the head of operations," said Padma, raising the mini video-camera she was carrying. "Do you mind?"

Draco shrugged. "Guess not. Does my hair look okay?"

She laughed, pulled a chair next him and sat. She flipped out the attached monitor and pressed record.

"Friday, August 7, twelve fifty-four am. Draco, how do you feel things are going so far?"

Draco turned to the camera. "It's hard to say this early on in the scheme of things. Right now we're ahead of schedule. All of the roads are empty and workers are getting started clearing out the debris so that we can begin building new houses in the morning."

"Why did you clear out the roads first?"

"So that it's easier to move the injured and also to move supplies once the building starts."

"What is all of this equipment in here for?" Padma asked, turning the camera to get a shot of the whole room.

"Well, these screens are so that we can keep an eye on how things are going. On this monitor you can see the site C workers clearing out the main street area. Over here is site B workers clearing out what used to be Clearview Apartments and there's a shot of the tents. These computer screens next to the monitors report the progress people are making and what needs to be done. The computers are hooked up to the individual cell phones of the people involved so they can just email what is happening to the computers and we will know what they need."

"Some people are saying that you will never get all of this done in two weeks."

"Those are the same people who said Voldemort would kill Harry. There are always going to be pessimists just like there are always going to be optimists."

"Do you think you're being optimistic?"

"I know what my people can do and I'm letting the people know what they can do. Granted it's not going to be pretty trying to get all this done and I'm sure that we may all start hating each other in a couple more days, but I don't make promises I can't keep, and Merlin knows I'm not looking for silver lining in the clouds. So no, I'm not an optimist. I deal in facts, not false promises."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No matter what he said to Padma, it began to look like a false promise that people would be back in there homes in a week. Several mistakes occurred, such as workers clearing out Mapleway Road instead of Maplewood Road and so when the construction workers appeared they had no where to build. That cost them half a day and then the foreign aid came in the form of beds, dressers, couches, and tables, which Draco was very thankful for, but had no place to put. So all of the furniture stayed on the boats while the custom agents and captains started charging him exponentially increasing prices while they waited. Plus there was a raid on the boats and the thieves got away with who knows how much and so Kingsley had to go track them down.

Things got complicated money wise as well. The economy didn't just decline, it dropped like a man in concrete shoes off of a bridge. Draco was beginning to wish he was that man, because then he wouldn't have to deal with the bad publicity and the constant headache he received from shouting members of Op. E.

They were shouting right now. Simon and Jon going at it with Steve Reynolds from Reynolds Building Co. Draco didn't really know what the problem was, but they had been hollering for the past six minutes and Padma was getting all of the drama on tape.

"Sit down and shut the hell up!" Draco yelled over the noise, slamming his fist on the table and jumping to his feet. If he had to listen to one more second of that he might go insane. It was the first time he had every yelled at them, or at any of his employees besides Ginny and Shelia, and immediately a shocked silence fell over the group. They all sat, looking abashed and angry at the same time.

"Thank you," said Draco. "Now does someone want to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"

"Reynolds decided to shove his little-," Simon began.

"Oh, blaming this on me are you, you little bas-,"

"Would you two shut your damn mouths one damn minute?" Ginny exclaimed. They did so, once again shocked into silence. "Thank you," said Ginny, sounding exasperated. "Now if you could just listen to me and Samantha, you would understand that there is a shortage of dry wall, and so yes, Reynolds took his share before hand, but no, Simon, he did not take your share. Yours is coming in a few hours."

Draco looked at the two men, who looked down rather guiltily.

"I don't want to hear about this kind of behavior again. Now I put you two together because I thought you two could see past your little competition and work together. Now, if I have to, I will hire two new companies to build the houses. Do I have to do that?"

They shook their heads but didn't answer. Draco decided to let it go.

"So, how are we?" he asked.

Ginny handed him a folder. "We're building at central Diagon Alley today."

"We're supposed to be done by now," said Draco. "What's taking so long?"

"A whole bunch of things, mostly the fact that people are trying to build their own homes back up and are refusing to let us help."

Draco turned to Lisa. "What are you going to do about it?"

Lisa sighed. "The public is getting restless in the tents. They say that you're just trying to get more control of the economy by taking over the Ministry. They're convinced that you blackmailed Lupin somehow and are now going to be the next Lord Voldemort, but instead of killing people, you're just going to take their money and control them that way."

"What a splendid idea," said Draco. "But I believed I asked 'what are you going to do', not what they bloody think. Right now I couldn't give a damn about them."

"You don't need to get snippy, Malfoy," said Ginny.

"I'm not getting snippy," said Draco. "I'm getting annoyed. And you can tell the public that, if I was the next Dark Lord, I would kill them off right now while they're sitting helplessly in their tents, which isn't sounding like a bad idea at the moment."

"Yeah, 'cause that's smart," Ginny retorted back at him.

"I didn't ask you if it was," said Draco, feeling another one of their rows coming on and so he dismissed them. "I want central Diagon Alley finished today; I don't care if you have to work all night. Now go and no more fighting."

They all left, most of them in bad humor as the long nights were taking a toll on everyone's patience. Draco leaned back in his chair with a groan and ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it rather fiercely. He really was going to pull his hair out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday morning. No, Draco was not in a good mood. The economy had hit depression levels causing mass panic in the tent-bound public and Draco knew that if they didn't get into their houses by tomorrow like he had promised, there would be riots. He couldn't blame them. They had lost so much in the depression, only to have it lost once more in the earthquake.

Draco had stayed up all night last night and most of the night the evening before, fielding calls from his businesses overseas who were also feeling the aftershocks of the earthquake. Thanks to a rather slandering article on the front page of the Daily Prophet, the entire world knew that Draco Malfoy was heading relief efforts in England, and now that the economy had slipped so much, people were pulling their own investments from his companies, both local ones and overseas, and for the first time in its history, Malfoy Enterprises, the foundation for all of his other companies, was threatened with bankruptcy.

It was actually quite a shock for Draco; even during the depression things hadn't been so bad. Sure, he'd wondered if he had permanently crippled the economy, but he could have always pulled out, now he was committed. If Malfoy Enterprises collapsed, so would approximately twenty companies all around the world. Not just any companies, but major corporations, ones that could bring down the economy in several other countries as well.

He gratefully grabbed the large mug of coffee Ginny handed him as the Op. E's assembled, looking only slightly better than himself.

"Well?" he asked.

Simon merely shook his head. The entire room seemed to deflate even further.

"What's the verdict?" Draco asked.

"We might have been able to get it all done by tomorrow, but Reynolds pulled out. Something to do with our companies going bankrupt."

There were a few, disgruntled exclamations, but they were only half-hearted. They all knew it was a big risk staying with someone who may or may not be able to pay them once they were finished. Draco swiveled his chair around and stared at the wall behind him. For some reason the image of the impending bankruptcy and ruin of the entire Malfoy legacy didn't upset him, instead he felt numb.

"Draco, should I tell the public that they won't be getting into their houses tomorrow?" Lisa asked hesitantly.

Draco turned back around. "Tell the public that they will be able to go home tomorrow morning," he said. "We will start moving them from the tents at eight am, sharp."

The room stared at him shocked.

"Draco, did you hear what Simon just said?" asked Lisa. "How can I tell them that when we won't be able to move them?"

"We will be able to," said Draco. "Right now I need you all to get back to work. This will work out."

"And if it doesn't?" Ginny queried, the only one brave enough to ask.

"Then we're royally screwed," said Draco. "Now if you don't mind, I need to make some phone calls and all of you need to get to work." He stood and left the room, Ginny following and shutting the door behind them.

"Malfoy, are you mad?" she asked as he walked over to the phone. "This is England we are talking about. You can't just go around promising things when you can't pay up at the end of it! This time money won't buy you a way out when you fail. I don't think you even realize what will happen when you do fail. Let me sum it up for you, people are left with nothing, they start dying because they have no money for food or shelter. Now I realize financial hardship isn't something you are used to, but maybe this once you can open your eyes and realize just how much is riding on your success!"

He whipped around on her. "How much is riding on my success?" he asked, completely incredulous. The ungodly amount of pressure he had been feeling since Thursday and the frustration at the thought of failure finally manifested itself into another emotion. Fury. "Understand this, Weasley, if this fails, so does twenty other business, and so does three other economies in three other countries. Do you know what that means? That means that the company that my father, that my whole bloody family, spent decades building up falls, taking most of the wizarding world with it, all because one sodding, stupid Draco Malfoy decided to do something to help out! Now, I have three options here. I can bloody pull out of England right now, and save my own skin and stay a rich bastard for the rest of my life, or, I can say to the public, 'oops, sorry it'll be another couple of days before you can move back in your houses' and deal with bankruptcy and mass riot, or I can take a risk, one that may save me and England. So never say that I don't realize what's riding on my success, because I realize it much better than you!"

She looked a little taken aback at his rage, and he immediately felt guilty, but he was damned if he was going to apologize for it. He dropped onto one of the couches and his hands started tugging on his hair again. There was a hesitant silence; Ginny broke it.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You're right. I'm just a little stressed; I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

He looked up at her, one eyebrow raised at the apology. She just flopped onto the couch next to him.

"Are you really facing bankruptcy?" she asked softly.

"Gringott's won't give me a loan," he said.

"It's that bad?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, there's still the Malfoy inheritance to blow through. What better to spend it on than for a good cause?"

"Wait, you're spending your own personal money on this?"

"Most of it, yeah," said Draco.

She laughed. "You should have been a Gryffindor." Then she jumped up before he could respond and ran out of his reach. He chucked a throw pillow at her, but she ducked and ran for the door. They both noticed Padma at the same time.

"You had better not have gotten that on tape," said Draco.

"What if I did?" asked Padma. Draco just groaned.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the afternoon, the world knew that Draco Malfoy was near bankruptcy, but not because Padma leaked it. Turns out one of the accountants at Gringott's let it slip to a certain Rita Skeeter that Malfoy Enterprises was going under and that the vault was nearly empty. That only created more of a panic, but Draco had gotten what he wanted.

He found Reynolds and paid him in advance. Two million galleons was what he offered, he ended up paying three. But Reynolds was back on the team and building recommenced again.

Even with Reynolds and his men working again, it seemed doubtful that they would be able to finish before eight, plus there was still all of the furniture sitting in the docks to be delivered to the completed apartments and houses. The entire Op. E team was in the conference, sitting on the edges of their chairs as they waited for the news to come in. It was eleven o'clock at night when Simon called in saying that all of the repair work on the damaged residences was finished and that he was putting all of his men on the Evergreen Apartments buildings, but while they would be able to finish it by six the next morning, it was doubtful that they would get all of the furniture moved into the houses.

Draco frowned then pulled out his phone. Thirty minutes later, he and the rest of the Op. E team was standing in a neighborhood of newly built houses along with volunteers from Frank Rite's moving team.

"Alright, here's the deal," Frank told them all. "The furniture arrives here shrunk and labeled. We take it to the appropriate housing and then enlarge it and set it up. Got it?"

They did get it, and although some time around one in the morning a drenching rainstorm started, they worked right through it. Even Padma and her crew helped now and then, abandoning their cameras for a pile of shrunken furniture. Draco had actually had most of the furniture moved into the apartments once they had been built, and it was only a few complexes hadn't been filled, but even then, it took them until five am to finish, and then they still had the Evergreen Apartments to move, and they were still being built.

The rain had slowed the building down, but now that it had abated, they were working double time. A few of the movers from Frank's team knew a bit about construction and were able to pitch in as well. That left the rest of the team sitting on the damp grass waiting for the buildings to be finished. The first building was finished at six-thirty and by the time they had put all of the charity furniture in place, two more were done. The sun came up while they were moving, spurring their movements faster, and at seven-thirty, the last building was completed. Even the construction workers helped move the furniture, and they had just finished putting the last table in place when the first of the residents were brought in by the members of the Magical Enforcement Squad who were in charge of making sure the mass move ran smoothly.

The residents were accompanied by reporters and all of them stood in shock at the apartments, which were an exact replica of the ones that had been destroyed. Cheers broke out among the group of builders and movers as they watched families go into the apartments, and come out laughing and crying, wordlessly pointing the reporters in.

Draco couldn't help but smiled and reminded himself to write very long thank you cards to both the French and American Ministers of Magic. They had both asked him what kind of support he needed and he had said furniture. They in turn had asked for donations from their own citizens and between the two countries and the charity from the areas of England not affected, they had sent enough to equip each house and apartment with a table, chairs, four beds, and a couch. They didn't all match, and it wasn't a lot in terms of what the families were used to, but the fact was they had lost everything to a natural disaster and they had been expecting shacks to live in.

The Op. E team left before the reporters spotted them and had a quick celebration in the conference room, consisting of coffee cake and tea, and then Draco sent them all home for a hot shower and a nap. Instead of going home himself, he sent the thank you letters to France and America, and then made sure everything was running smoothly while nearly two thousand people were moved back into their homes. He was planning on checking over the financial situation, but two sleepless nights were catching up on him. He walked into the Minister's office, kicked off his shoes and pulled off his sweater, leaving him in a white t-shirt and comfortable khakis, and collapsed on the gold brocade couch. He set his cell phone on the table beside him and then promptly passed out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aww, look at the poor little Draco," said a laughing voice somewhere out of the black that Draco was lost in. He frowned and shifted, burying himself deeper into the soft surface he was currently lying on.

"Come on, Draco," came the voice again. "Wake up and say 'hi' for the camera!"

Draco turned his head and blinked open his eyes. He was lying on his stomach on the couch in the Minster's office and Padma had a camera practically in his face.

"I really hate you right now," he said, almost childlike in his plaintiveness.

She laughed. "They're waiting for you in the conference room. I was sent to wake you up."

Draco rubbed his eyes and looked at the camera in her hand. "You had better not publish any of that," he said. "What time is it?"

"Two in the afternoon. And congratulations, every one is back in their house and general opinion is that you pulled off the impossible and are no longer Voldemort-like."

"I should hope not," said Draco, still half-asleep and deciding that untying his sneakers was too much at the moment. "He was a real ugly bastard, wasn't he?"

He stood up, pocketing his cell phone and followed Padma into the conference room in sock feet. He was just awake enough to wonder why she was walking backwards with the camera still in his face when he entered the room.

"SURPRISE!" shouted two dozen voices. Draco was surprised to say the least, and he was sure from the laughter that the look of absolute shock on his face was really humorous due to the laughter following the pronouncement. The entire family along with the Op. E team and Lupin was present with green streamers hanging from the ceiling with bunches of silver balloons.

"The hell?" he asked to their furthered amusement.

"Hell!" sang Zak happily. "Hell, hell, hell!" Snape scooped him up and clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Poor bloke doesn't even know," said Fred.

"Read the cake, idiot," said George.

Draco finally noticed the large cake on the table and stepped forward to read it. 'Happy Birthday, Draco' the cake read, though the icing that spelled out his name occasionally contorted into 'Ferret-boy'. From Fred and George's muffled laughter, it was something of their design.

Draco hadn't forgotten his birthday, but he was surprised that they knew when it was.

"Blaise told us," said Mrs. Weasley stepping forward to light the candles, all twenty-four of them. "Ginny planned the party."

Draco's still shocked gaze turned to the gorgeous red-head who was looking stunning in a khaki skirt and tight royal purple top. She smiled, obviously pleased with herself.

"Alright, blow the candles out and make a wish," said Mrs. Weasley.

He obligingly thought for a minute, then blew the candles out, or he would have had not they started to sing.

A very happy birthday, though you are getting old

You're hair will start to fall out, your teeth begin to mold

Though you protest, 'I'm only twenty four' you may say,

You grow closer to one hundred, with every passing day

They then burst into a miniature firework display which made everyone duck and cover for protection against the flying sparks and midget rockets that made the babies begin to wail and the younger children scream from fright. When, at last, the fireworks died out, Draco picked himself up off the floor and peered over the table at the Weasley twins.

"Trick candles," said Fred, brightly.

"Aren't they something?" asked George proudly.

Draco merely laughed then sneezed. He frowned; he hoped he wasn't coming down with something.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Wow, long chapter

I'm sorry it took so long, next time I won't wait until the last minute to begin a new chapter. Anyways, leave a review, and yes, IMPORTANT NOTICE HERE: there will be more Draco/Ginny action coming up, so, more reviews faster update. MUWHAHAHA! Yes, I am okay.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did…well, I've run out of things to do. That's it! If I did own Harry Potter I would hire someone to think of something for me to do. Every day. For the rest of my life. So I would never be bored.

QuinkyDink: great to hear from you again, and thank you for letting me know I'm doing the CEO think right

Liz: some D/G in here and even more in chpt 24 coming up soon

Icicle7: yeah, he's sick, but it's a good thing

Alexandria J. Malfoy: I'm glad you're stinking with the story, thanks for the reviews

GoldenFawkes: I'm glad you like the kissing scene

Liv Anguifer: Sorry about the wait, thanks for reviewing

Padfootedmooney: some D/G in this chpt, even more in the next one which won't take as long to update

Sarah: sorry about the wait, finals and all that this week

Guineviere: thanks, I like Draco too

FroggHopper: thanks, and Draco does do the impossible a lot, doesn't he?

Melanie: Thanks a lot, reviews mean a lot to me

Silfion: thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you liked the birthday part

Louey31: sorry about the wait

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco didn't get all of the companies up and running by the ninth day. There was one section of Diagon Alley where the foundations of the shops had eroded away and what should have been a simple roof repair turned into a full renovation and so ten stores remained closed.

No one minded too much; they were too busy going back to work and buying new things for their new homes. Public opinion was once again in Draco's favor as England's little trip into depression reversed itself as stores and businesses opened up again. Newspapers were running the story of the miraculous rebuilding of nearly two thousand homes and apartments under headlines such as "It Must Be Magic" which Draco thought was incredibly cliché but he appreciated their support none-the-less.

That didn't mean things were any less busy. Malfoy Enterprises was still smarting from the near bankruptcy,and England was still in the yellow warning zone, and while Draco had pulled the country out before with the use of charity events and carnivals, the fact was that the Malfoy fortune was not endless and so Draco would just have to wait this one out.

It was Tuesday and the only reason Draco was awake was because of the coffee he was drinking non-stop. Well, the coffee and the headache that was currently pulsating through his temples.

"Hey, Ferret-Boy!"

Draco looked up from the stack of papers to see Ginny snapping her fingers at him.

"What?"

"I've been calling your name for the past two minutes," Ginny laughed. She then searched his face and frowned. "Are you feeling alright?"

He scowled at the inspection. "I'm fine," he said.

"You look a little pale."

"I'm always pale," said Draco shrugging.

"Even more so than usual," she clarified. "Are you feeling okay?"

The truth was he'd been feeling a little off ever since the night they'd spent moving things out in the rain, but he was fine. His throat was a little scratchy, but he attributed that to the scalding coffee he drank two days ago; his tongue was just starting to taste again. His stomach was a little upset, again, the coffee. He'd been living on it practically. And his head hurt, but he'd been under a lot of stress, plus caffeine sometimes caused headaches. He frowned; by that reasoning he should stop drinking the coffee. He frowned even more; maybe it was better if he was sick, then he wouldn't have a reason to stop consuming the beverage. Because he couldn't frown any more he adopted his cold mask. He was not sick.

He was so caught up in his internal debate that he didn't notice Ginny get up until she was right in front of him and laying a blessedly cool hand on his forehead. He jerked backwards at the touch, finally realizing her presence. She smirked at him and rested her hand on his forehead again.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Seeing if you have a fever," she said.

"And you can tell by touching my forehead?" he asked rather dubiously.

"It has to do with body temperatures," she said, shifting her hand so that her wrist was on his forehead. "My hand, or my wrist, is usually at the average body temperature so if your forehead feels warm to me, than you have a fever." She frowned. "You feel a little hot."

Part of him demanded that he bat her hands away in protest, but the other part was just content to let her hand stay on his head. She pulled back and he was both grateful and upset that she did.

"I think you have a cold, Malfoy."

"I do not have a cold," Draco said. "I'm a Malfoy and-,"

"You don't get sick," Ginny finished.

It was the truth. Draco could remember having a fever only once in his life, but other than a slight cold here or there, he had always remained in the best of health.

"You should go home early," Ginny told him. "Or at least take a nap before family dinner tonight. You are coming, aren't you?"

"Hmm?" asked Draco, not really paying attention. "Oh. Yeah, I'm coming."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And he did go. He showed up a little late, but he made it there. Barely.

By the afternoon his head was seriously pounding and by the evening his throat was feeling like it was rubbed raw whenever he swallowed. He thought about going straight home, but he had promised Mrs. Weasley at his birthday party that he would show up. And so here he was, staggering out of the fireplace and making his way to the family room. He got to the table in the dining room and decided that was a far as he was going to get. He slumped into a chair and laid his head on his arms on the cool wood surface.

"Draco?" asked Mrs. Weasley, spotting him from the kitchen.

"I think I'm sick," said Draco, wanting to do nothing more than to find a warm, soft bed somewhere and fall asleep. She came over and placed a hand on his forehead, then pressed her lips there.

"I think you're sick too," she said. "Do you want to go lie down in the family room? It'll be nice and quiet; everyone is outside playing."

He nodded and managed to get to his feet and she guided him into the living room where he collapsed onto the couch, kicking his shoes off so he could stretch out.

"Now, you just stay here and I'll get you some fever-reducer, alright?" said Mrs. Weasley, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Draco didn't glare at the touch, something he would have done hadn't he been ill, and allowed her to give him a kiss on the top of his head.

He closed his eyes as she bustled off, but then opened them again as he heard the front door bang open and laughter and footsteps enter the house.

"Harry, put me down!" said Padma in an I'm-trying-to-be-serious-but-can't-stop-laughing-tone.

"Never," said Harry, making her squeal. "Hey, Mrs. Weasley, is Draco here yet?"

"He's in the living room. But be quiet!" she called after them as Draco could hear them approach. "He's ill!"

Draco looked up as the couple came in and couldn't help but make a disgusted face. Harry had slung Padma over his shoulder as she playfully beat his back with one hand, the other still clutching her video camera.

"Harry, put me down or I'll publish this footage of your butt," she said.

"You wouldn't," said Harry, grinning. "You're much too jealous to have other women staring at me lasciviously."

"Big word Potter," said Draco, shifting onto his back on the couch. "Have you been trying to impress someone?"

"Hello to you too, Malfoy. You don't look so good."

"Harry, put me down," said Padma.

"Are you going to stop recording everything?"

"Yes," she said.

He set her down, but not before she slapped his butt. He didn't seem to mind but rather after setting her down, pulled her in for a kiss.

"Hey," said Draco covering his eyes. "I'm still here you know."

Harry didn't look at all abashed, though Padma blushed.

"So, Draco, how do you feel the economy is doing?" she asked, focusing the camera on him.

"You said you wouldn't record anymore," said Harry.

"I lied," she said. "Just let me get a bit of Draco for my documentary and I'll put it away," she said, tugging on his hand to pull him over for another kiss.

Draco took advantage of her momentary distraction to sit up.

"Alright," she said, once her boyfriend had taken a seat behind her. "How do you feel the economy is doing?"

"I think that given the circumstances the economy is doing the best that we can expect from it. Right now it is just important to let it settle down again. The fact that it was able to spring back so quickly shows that it is surprisingly stable."

"Stable because it sprang back," she said, the question apparent in her voice.

"A stable economy is one that when it suffers a sudden, rather large drop, will recover just as quickly," said Draco. He was going to explain more, but Mrs. Weasley came back in then with the fever-reducing and head ache relief potion and told Padma to let him rest. She flipped off the camera, but not before catching his grimace at the potion's taste and how Mrs. Weasley flitted over him like a concerned mother bird. Draco was honestly too tired to care and without realizing it, he smiled as she pulled a soft-knitted blanket over him. She shooed Harry and Padma out of the room and Draco rolled over onto his stomach and let himself fall asleep.

_The field again, with its emerald grass and the sapphire brook running beside it. It was even more lovely than the first time he was there, if that was at all possible, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. He stood up and let the breeze caress his face and run gently through his hair._

_**Draco**, it seemed to call. **Draco**. He caught a glimpse of red and immediately, he felt a sense of completion._

"Draco," said an amused voice. "Draco, wake up."

Why the hell were people always in a good mood when they woke him up? He rolled over and gazed blearily at the red-head, who was indeed, smiling.

"Good of you to join us, Sleeping Beauty," Ginny said.

There was laughter behind her, and Draco pushed himself up to see the adults in the family seated in the armchairs or on the floor with plates of food in their laps.

"The kids are eating outside today with Percy and Penny watching them, so we decided to join you," said Ginny. "Do you want something to eat?"

Draco sat up the whole way and ran a head over his face. He thought about eating, and felt slightly nauseas.

"No, I'm good," he said.

"Mum figured you feel that way, so here." Ginny handed him a mug of chicken soup. "It'll help you feel better."

He took the mug and she got her own plate and then sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. Conversation started up again, but Draco was content just to listen. Ginny was right, the soup really did help him feel better, plus it was absolutely delicious.

After dinner Draco was feeling well enough to join them all on the floor for a board game. All of the women practically doted over him. Had he been healthy he would have sent them running away with a glare that had been taught to him by the master of glares, his godfather, but as it was he didn't mind the attention they lavished on him. He was content in a sleepy, not quite with it way, and it probably had to do something with the potion he had taken earlier in the evening, and so when Faye brought him hot chocolate without any prompting and when Hermione gave him a pillow to put between his back and the couch he was leaning on, he merely gave them a sweet, hesitant smile that would have thoroughly disgusted him, had he been fully functional.

He vaguely noted that Sev was looking both revolted and highly amused at the same time and couldn't quite figure out why. Ginny was sitting on the couch behind him, and Draco often caught her and Sev exchanging looks. From what he could tell, Ginny was disgusted at the other women, but the reason eluded him. Pansy reached over and started smoothing his hair down, which was sticking up from his nap earlier, but she continued stroking his head even when his hair was back in place. It was a soothing feeling and so Draco didn't shrug her off.

"For Merlin's sake," Ginny exclaimed after a couple minutes of that. "He's sick and you're taking advantage of him!"

Draco tilted his head back so that he could look at her and in doing so Pansy was forced to remove her hand. Ginny was sitting with her legs tucked up underneath her so that he could lean against the sofa, and she had a mug of tea in her hands. She looked angry, and something else, but he couldn't quite place it. She blushed when they all looked at her, muttered an apology, and put her legs next to Draco. She was too short for her feet to fully tough the floor and Draco thought that was adorable.

He tried to concentrate on the game, but sleep was calling to him again, and he let his head fall back to rest on the couch. Before long his head had slipped so that he was leaning against Ginny's legs, but she didn't seem to mind. Plus she was wearing soft corduroy pants. The last thing Draco saw was her bare feet with her toenails painted a pretty ivory color and a charm anklet on her left ankle.

Blaise woke him up when it was time to go home and practically carried him to his bed. Draco didn't even bother changing, but crawled under the covers. Ginny's face while she watched Pansy stroke his hair came unbidden into his mind and he realized with a jolt that the emotion he couldn't name had been jealousy. He smirked at that and drifted off again.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

He honestly felt better the next morning. His head still hurt but it was only a dull throb and he could swallow without the burning sensation in his throat. And so he went to work early to catch up on the things he had skipped over yesterday. He was still situated at the Minister's office, and most of the Op E team was arriving at the same time he did.

"Malfoy, are you sure you should be here?" asked Ginny, spotting him pouring a large mug of coffee.

"I'm fine," he said. "All better."

She gave him a quick once over looking very dubious, but she didn't say anything else.

Wednesday was a busy day, and a rainy day, but a good day. He found that businesses were not only investing in Malfoy Enterprises once again, but they were investing even more than they had before. As one returning client told him over the phone, "Damn, Malfoy, I knew you were good, but _damn_, what you did in England was nothing short of astounding. The way I see it, if you can pull that off, I know that I won't have to worry about losing my investment."

That was the general consensus of all of the investors who kept calling him, and Draco found himself so besieged by calls, that he gave the phone over to Ginny so that he could deal with things still in England. It wasn't that she couldn't run the Op E for awhile; it's just that he wanted to see how she handled the investors. She did splendidly, answering the onslaught of phone calls and dealing with each person efficiently and quickly, but without rushing the client. Draco couldn't help but feel immensely proud of her.

To celebrate how well things were going, Draco and the Op E team ran out for lunch at Elliot's, a nice little restaurant with private dining rooms in the back for larger parties. They left at 12: 30 and finally arrived at the restaurant at 1:00, soaking wet because as soon as he and the team had left the office, the media descended like a mob. Draco wondered where they had been hiding as he struggled to make out what they were trying to say through the demands of each report and through the steady drumming of the rain. He answered a few of their questions, remembering that Padma had the scoop to the main story, and by the time he broke free of them, he was seriously regretting the fact that they had left the umbrellas at the office because not only was he wet, but seriously chilled as well.

In fact he couldn't seem to get warm for the rest of the day, no matter that his clothes were quickly and completely dried by a simple charm. To make matters worse, his headache had returned with a vengeance and his throat was sore once again. He shivered as he looked up from a report to glance at a clock. Only 2:47. He felt like it should be six he was so tired and his muscles were aching from what he assumed was sitting still for to long. He got up to grab another coffee, and nearly choked when he swallowed the wrong way.

"Breathe the air, Malfoy, and drink the coffee," said Ginny, smiling slightly as he tried to clear his lungs. "Not the other way around."

He laughed as he choked, and then couldn't stop coughing, but it wasn't the cough of simply clearing liquid from one's lungs, it was a deep, hacking, sick cough. Draco winced as the coughing fit finally died down; his throat was killing him.

"Draco, are you alright?" asked Ginny for the rest of the Op E team who were all looking at him concernedly, but didn't have the courage to ask him themselves.

"I'm fine," said Draco, repressing another cough. "Now, where were we?"

His tone was final and Ginny looked as if she wanted to object, but refrained from doing so. By four o'clock, Draco found it impossible to concentrate. His eyes just didn't want to focus on the computer screen and when he tried listening to others give reports, their words echoed uselessly through his head. Numbers were just a jumble of random symbols floating through his head, and while he used to be able to just glance at a chart and tell you exactly what it meant, now it just seemed a plethora of intersecting lines.

At four-thirty, Draco knew he was sick, or rather, at four-thirty he felt bad enough to admit it. He was alone in the conference room when he felt his skin break out in a sweat, and he felt as if his flesh was burning even though inside he was freezing. Then he started coughing again, and the harsh coughs inflamed his throat even more and sent shooting pain through his head. The words in front of him were blurring and weaving, and he managed to shove his laptop in his case and pocket his cell phone. Ginny came in then as well as Samantha, Shelia, and Padma and her crew.

Ginny stared at him. "Draco," she said, concern in her voice, "you-,"

"I know," he said, more irritably than he intended. "I'm sick. I'm going home." He stood up rather abruptly to get away from her prying eyes, but that proved to be a mistake. He felt the blood rush from his head and the world in front of him spun crazily while black spots danced in front of his eyes. There was a split second when he realized that he no longer had control over his legs, or any part of his body for that matter, and then the ground was looming closer and closer and when he hit, he felt removed from his body, and he felt only the echo of what should have been a rather jolting fall. The world went black, but he realized that was only because his eyes were closed, and for the life of him, he couldn't get them to open up again. The sounds around him slowly died out as he delved further in the black, and then unconsciousness claimed him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that he was semi-aware of what was going on would be an overstatement. He only knew that he was laying in brightness, but that his mind was in darkness. Sometimes, he was aware of the light, aware of voices in the light, but they hurt his head and he was so tired he couldn't stay to hear what they were saying. He was aware of one voice in particular, a voice accompanied by a soothing touch. Sometimes the touch would be holding his hand and sometimes it would be stroking gently through his hair, but either way, it helped him rest.

He awoke to the touch in his hair, really awoke. He struggled to open his eyes, and finally managed to crack them a bit.

"Draco, are you awake?" asked the red-head by his side, dropping her hand from where she was running it through his hair. He missed the touch but was able to open his eyes all of the way.

"Think so," he said, or tried to, but his voice was rough and cracking from disuse. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost a week," said Ginny, stroking his hair again. His lips unconsciously morphed into a smile of contentment before he realized what she had said.

"Wait, a week?" he exclaimed, trying to sit up, but she held him down. He noticed with a flare of frustration that she could do so with one hand on his chest.

"You're not going anywhere," she said, firmly. "You have pneumonia."

He took note of the room for the first time. It was a hospital room with white floors, white walls, and a white ceiling. He was in a bed with the metal bars pulled up and cream colored blankets.

"It was that bad?" he asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Bad question. Her amber eyes filled with tears and she shoved her chair back roughly.

"That bad?" she asked in an outraged voice that shook slightly with what Draco knew was suppressed sobs. "Draco, you were sick with the flu. You had a fever of 104.8 and that's why you collapsed. Then two days later, when we thought you were getting better, you caught pneumonia. You were unconscious for nearly five days, and we thought you were going to die!"

He paled. "Shit." If the public found out he had nearly died, who knows what state the economy was in now. Not to mention the fact that Malfoy Enterprises was just pulling away from bankruptcy. "Ginevra, how's the economy doing? And I'll need the folder on ME to check over things and make some phone calls and…," he trailed off. Ginny was trembling, but not from tears. Her fists were clenched and he wouldn't be surprised if sparks started shooting from her eyes.

"The economy?" she asked in a deadly calm voice. "Some phone calls? You practically die and that's all you can think about?" That last was in a shout that rang throughout the room. She gave him one last hate-filled glare and turned to stride out of the room.

"Wait, Ginevra!" Draco called after her, but she had already reached the door. He tried sitting up, intending to follow after her, except that the moment he suddenly felt as if he deserved to be in the hospital. His head spun and felt as if he had just been hit with a bludger. His body was incapable of any sudden movements and that one jerk left him in a pain that felt like the after affects of one too many 'crucios'. He collapsed back on the pillows behind him and he started coughing again, not as bad as before, but enough to leave him gasping with his throat inflamed again. The coughing fit and the movement left him sweating, shaking, and gasping for air and he closed his eyes, willing away the pain.

The door opened a few minutes later and he opened his eyes, hoping to see Ginny so that he could apologize. It _was_ rather callous of him not to ask how she was doing. Now that he thought about it she had looked pale and tired and no doubt she had taken up the responsibility of saving England, a responsibility he wouldn't wish on anyone. It was a doctor at the door, however, and Draco barely listened as the medi-wizard asked him questions and checked him over.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, it was a close call for an hour or so yesterday morning, but you pulled out of it fine."

"What day is it?" asked Draco.

"Monday. Almost noon."

"Could I go home?" Draco asked.

The medi-wizard laughed. "You have no idea how sick you are, do you?" he asked.

"I have a faint idea," said Draco, remembering the coughing fit a moment ago. "I could have a nurse on call and I'd stay in bed."

"Maybe tomorrow," said the doctor. "But you'd have to do everything nurse told you to."

"I will," said Draco, who had no attention of doing so, but he was willing to lie if it meant getting out of the hospital sooner.

"We'll see how you are tomorrow then," said the doctor. "If you need anything, just push the button and the nurse will come in. Are you feeling up to visitors just now? There's a man waiting for you outside, a Mr. Zabini."

"Yeah," said Draco. "Send him in."

The medi-wizard left and Blaise walked in, a frown on his usually smiling face. He sat in the chair Ginny had vacated, resting his cane on the side of it.

"So, you wake up for the first time in five days and five minutes later the girl who spent every night by your bedside runs out in tears. Tell me, did the meds do anything to your brain or is this just the bastard side of Draco showing through because you haven't let him out in a while?"

Draco wasn't feeling well, and he had been looking for a little sympathy from his best friend, and his temper flared.

"I have no clue what set her off," said Draco, his voice frigid and extremely Lucius like at the moment. "Nor do I care. What problem is it of mine if she can't keep her emotions under control?"

"What problem?" Blaise repeated, incredulously. "I'll have you know that the girl you just insulted spent every waking moment reassuring that public that the man who pulled them out of the depression was not dying and that there was no reason to panic. She was making calls left and right, not only keeping England together, but also your beloved Malfoy Enterprises. So how about you show a little gratitude, Merlin knows you can afford some."

Draco felt guilt flare inside of him, but he smothered it angrily. He had nearly died for Merlin's sake and all his friend could do was accuse him of ingratitude?

"It's nothing I don't do everyday," he said icily, still sounding like his father.

"Oh, so you're feeling a little under appreciated, are you? Do you know that she spent every night by your side and that the nurses had to drag a bed in here so that she could get some sleep?" Blaise demanded.

The guilt he had been trying to smother was rekindled and flamed up with a vengeance. He hadn't and didn't answer.

"Because," said Blaise, continuing, "I would expect something like that from Lucius."

That hurt. It would have hurt less if Blaise had just punched him, but he had a feeling Blaise was right.

"Blaise," he started, but his friend cut him off.

"No, don't," he said. "I shouldn't have said that. It was completely uncalled for and untrue, but seriously Draco, what on earth did you say to her?"

"She told me that I nearly died and I asked her how the economy was doing," Draco admitted, rather ashamedly, but glad that his friend wasn't yelling anymore.

Blaise winced. "Not the greatest of things to say to her, but it's not unfixable. She's probably just worried; I mean, I was worried, and I'm just your best friend."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Draco.

"It means she likes you, mate," said Blaise, grinning at him.

Draco shook his head. "She doesn't like me," he said. "Not like that anyway." But his mind flashed back to the look of jealousy Ginny had when Pansy was smoothing his hair.

Blaise shrugged. "If you say so," he said, though he didn't sound convinced.

Draco tired to sit up again, but like last time it triggered a coughing fit, and this time he couldn't stop, his body intent on hacking up the lining of his throat. Blaise looked concerned and then seeing he wasn't going to be stopping anytime soon, pulled him up into a sitting position and held him there until the coughs subsided. He then handed him a glass of water from the bedside table, but Draco was shaking so badly he couldn't grasp it and Blaise had to hold that as well.

"You okay, Draco?" Blaise asked when Draco had laid back down still trembling slightly. Draco saw genuine concern on his friends face and gave him a rare smile to show him he was.

"That's not comforting, Draco," said Blaise. "You never smile. What's wrong?"

Draco gave an exasperated sigh. "Nothing, you git. Are you happy now?"

"Immensely so," said Blaise. "Though your wit seems to be somewhat dulled by your malady."

"I thought you would enjoy the vacation," said Draco dryly. "Now get out of here; I'm tired." And he was. He could feel himself falling asleep and he hated an audience.

"Yes, sir," said Blaise, giving him a mock salute, but grabbing his cane and heading out the door. Draco just shook his head and settled back into the pillows.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Draco didn't wake up until the next morning which the doctor told him, while examining him, was completely normal and expected. Draco still didn't like it, but he couldn't complain because he was able to sit up without coughing or shaking. The doctor than had him Flooed over to his house under the condition that he stayed in bed and that the private nurse the hospital would send over every four hours would be obeyed. Draco was situated in his large bed in his suite and the doctor left with a sheet of instructions on what potions to take and when. As soon as the green fire in the large marble fireplace died out, Draco sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, intent on finding his laptop.

"Don't you even think about it, young man!" came a commanding voice that would have made Minerva McGonagall proud. Draco turned to see a plump, red-headed woman in his doorway with her hands on her hips.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Weasley," said Draco, giving her a disarming smile. "How are you today?" The smile had no affect on her. Draco tried a different tactic. "What are you doing here?"

"We sent for her," said Pansy, coming in behind her accompanied by Blaise who was grinning wickedly. "We figured we would have some trouble trying to keep you in bed, so we decided to have her come over and help."

"I'm not an invalid," Draco protested as Mrs. Weasley bustled around the room, reading the instructions that came with the potions and pouring some into a cup.

"Course you aren't dear," said Mrs. Weasley, handing him the cup. Draco didn't take it. "Come on, the best thing for you right now is to drink this and get some sleep."

"I don't want to sleep," said Draco, sending Blaise and Pansy a glare. They merely smirked.

"Come on, Draco," said Mrs. Weasley.

"I don-," Draco started but then he was cut off by the cup being shoved in his open mouth and tipped up, forcing him to either drink the potions or choke. He gagged the potions down, coughing once the cup was removed from his lips. Mrs. Weasley handed him a glass of water which he gulped down to rid his mouth of the awful taste.

"Are you happy now?" he asked glaring at the Weasley matriarch.

"How about you get some rest now," said Mrs. Weasley, pushing him gently, but firmly back onto the pillows.

"No," said Draco. "I'm not tired."

"Not even a little bit?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"No," said Draco, even as a wave of exhaustion took his body and his eyes closed of their own accord. He snapped them back open and struggled to sit up again. "You drugged me!" he accused, even as Mrs. Weasley pushed him back again with one hand, and pulled the covers up, tucking him in.

"Just go to sleep," she told him as his eyes closed again.

He wanted to tell her he wasn't tired, but he felt as if something was reaching up from the ground and sucking him back into darkness. He frowned as the dizziness associated with sleeping potions washed over him and then there was nothing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The surface he was lying on rocked a little and there were a few giggles.

"Alright, wake Uncle Draco up," said a feminine voice in a whisper.

"He's not my Uncle," said a boy's voice. "He's my brother!"

"Ooops," said the woman. "You're right. Wake him up."

"Don't you dare," Draco groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.

"Draco!" yelled a voice and a small form jumped on top of his stomach, eliciting a grunt from his mouth. Tiny hands grabbed the pillow from him and he opened his eyes to see the toothy grin of Zak. "Dinner!" the boy exclaimed, happily. He then clamored off of Draco and began jumping on the bed with Dragon.

Draco turned to Pansy who was watching the boys to make sure they didn't jump right off of the bed.

"What time is it?" he asked, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

"Five o'clock," she said. "The potion really knocked you out."

"And whose fault is that?" asked Draco, though he really couldn't complain. He felt completely rested and felt that he could even get up, though he doubted they would let him.

Pansy merely smiled and scooped the boys off of the bed. "Alright boys, go on downstairs with everyone else. Draco needs to eat."

The boys scampered off and Draco turned to look at Pansy. "Everyone else?" he asked.

"The whole family is here," she said. "We were worried about you. Now, Severus is bringing you dinner and I want you to eat all of it, understand?"

"Sev?" asked Draco, frowning.

"Yes, Sev," said Pansy. "Maybe he can knock some sense into you so that you don't go running around when you're deathly ill anymore."

That was exactly the reason Draco didn't want the Potions Master bringing him dinner because Sev was not above guilt-tripping Draco into making promises that the next time he had a slight headache he would go straight to the hospital, but before he could protest, Sev came in with a covered tray and Pansy left.

Sev set the tray on Draco's lap and pulled the cover off, revealing Mrs. Weasley's chicken soup, French bread, and a glass of pumpkin juice. Draco would have killed for a mug of coffee. Sev settled himself on a chair by the bed and Draco sighed, not even picking up the spoon. He could feel Sev's eyes on him and it was rather uncomfortable.

"Just spit it out, Sev," he said.

"I was just wondering what you were thinking when you were at work even though you were dangerously ill," said Snape, his voice smooth, but cool, which meant that he was upset. The thing was that he was upset because Draco nearly died and Draco knew Sev cared for him, and that made him feel all the guiltier.

"I wasn't thinking," he said. "I thought it was just a cold and that it would pass and I'm sorry and I won't do it again."

There. He had covered all of the bases, right? He risked a glance at Sev, whose brows were knitted over an unreadable expression.

"Sev?" he asked quietly.

The Potions Master reached over and grabbed Draco into a fierce hug, nearly upsetting the tray balanced on Draco's lap and all Draco could do was wrap his arms around his godfather and return the embrace. He could feel the tension in his godfather's shoulders and he knew he had caused it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Sev's chest.

Snape pulled away, regaining his mask of indifference. "You will never do something like that again, do I make myself clear?" he asked.

And Draco could only nod.

"Good. Now eat your dinner."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner the family came up to see him in small groups so that he wasn't overwhelmed with people. Mrs. Weasley made Fred and George go in different groups so that they didn't try anything. That only gave them the perfect opportunity to test their two-part dung bombs.

They really were genius, Draco decided after the bedroom was aired out. Fred had gone in with the first group and had sprayed a squirt of what seemed to be ordinary perfume in the air. George had come in a few minutes later and had prayed another bottle and immediately the room filled with a stench rivaling an army of stink bombs. They had then explained it to Draco while Mrs. Weasley was busy opening windows and glowering. The substances alone were unreactive, but when put together, they created the horrid odor. They had gone on to explain that they had used it successfully in several office buildings, including the Aurors office, which was supposed to detect dung bombs.

Draco had laughed when they told him how the Aurors had run around, checking wards and looking for Death Eater's, but the laughter had triggered a rather nasty coughing fit, which made Mrs. Weasley send everyone downstairs so Draco could get some rest.

Harry stopped in later that evening, which Draco was thankful for because he had been sleeping all day and was incredibly bored. Mrs. Weasley had refused to give him his laptop and had the radio moved from his room. She told him he was not to do anything work related for at least two more days, and nothing Draco said seemed to persuade her other wise.

Harry had actually smuggled in a newspaper for Draco and Draco groaned at seeing the first page. It was a picture of him, from the looks of it from when he was at the charity ball because he was in his dress robes and he was smiling charmingly. The headline read "Draco Malfoy out of Hospital, No Word on his Condition."

"You should see the paper from a few days ago," said Harry. "Some reporter actually got into your room somehow and took a picture of you when you were unconscious and it stayed on the front page for two days. That's when people started sending you things, flowers and balloons and stuffed animals. It filled three hospital rooms and then Ginny started giving all of the things to other rooms, but she kept all the cards for you. Some of them were really quite touching."

"Where is Ginevra?" asked Draco. His business manager hadn't come into to see him and he had missed her.

"Across the hall, in one of the guest rooms doing some work. I head that you two had a spat of sorts?"

Draco grimaced. "Something like that," he said. "She hasn't talked to me since."

Harry nodded, looking thoughtful and then he got up. "Well, I'm heading off now, I'm taking Padma on a date so if a certain person decided to disobey doctor's orders and get up, I wouldn't be here to stop him. Have a good day, Draco."

"You too Harry," said Draco, giving him a smile of thanks. He waited impatiently until Harry left then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was still in the white pajama bottoms and button up shirt of the hospital and as it was rather chilly without the blankets, he first made his way slowly over to his closet and pulled on a red sweater. It was much harder to walk than he expected and just reaching his door left him exhausted, but he was a Malfoy and used to getting his way, so he silently opened the door and stepped into the hall.

Light spilled into the shadowy hall from the room across the hall, but the door was shut half way so that he couldn't see in. He crossed the remaining few steps and pushed the door open all of the way.

"Draco?" exclaimed Ginny, putting down the laptop and getting off of the bed she was lounging on. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Came to see you," he said, shrugging slightly.

"You came to see me," she repeated, disbelief in her voice.

"Actually, I wanted to apologize for the other day," said Draco. "But you wouldn't come and see me, so the mountain had to go to Muhammad."

"What?" she asked, not catching the reference to the Muggle phrase.

"You wouldn't see me, so I came to see you," Draco clarified.

"You're going to catch sick standing there," Ginny sighed. "You could have just have someone send for me, you know."

"It's more fun this way," said Draco.

Ginny sighed again, but she was smiling. "Let's get you back to bed before you really do catch your death."

"Actually, is that my laptop?" Draco asked, looking at the computer on the bed.

"Oh, no you don't," said Ginny, halting his progress with a hand on his chest. "You are going straight to bed. Come on."

She pushed him back into the hall and then directed him to the bed. Draco obeyed, partly because he didn't want to make her mad again and partly because he was tired after the short stroll. He let Ginny tuck him in, smirking at how alike she and her mother were in this regard.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"You're just like your mother," he said.

"And you're in Gryffindor colors," she said, flicking his sweater lightly. "Now go to sleep."

"So, you're not mad anymore?" he asked as she walked to the door.

"Draco, the most frustrating thing about you is that it is impossible to be mad at you. Now go to sleep," she repeated.

She turned off the light and shut the door on his surprised smirk.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I'm sorry it took so long, but it's finals week, and you know what that means. Lots of caffeine, even more stress and not enough time or sleep. But read and review and I promise even more D/G in the next chapter. I planned for more D/G in this chapter, but it just didn't write like that. But, I promise more in 24.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would go to one of those café/bookstores, buy a book, and sit and read while drinking a white mocha. Every day, for the rest of my life.

Sorry it took so long to update. Thanks to:

FroggHopper: I loved the jealous Ginny too, thanks for reviewing

Padfootedmoony: this chapter is chalkful of D/G goodness, enjoy

Louey31: ah, yes, the sick and mean Draco, but that is what Blaise is therefore

Ghettoxlilazngrl: hey, wow, thanks for the update, and I don't review things as often as I should either, glad you like the story, and as for updating, this one was late, oops, thanks for the review though

GoldenFawkes: here is 24 and there is more, lots, lots more

GPGA: I hope your finals went well, and here is the next chapter, thanks for taking the time to drop a line

Chaney: all in on sitting? Wow, and thanks for the review and compliments, sorry this chapter is a little late, but I hope you like it

Alexandria J. Malfoy: I love your constant reviews, and I feel loved, here's another chapter

QuinkyDink: thank you for the reviews, and this chapter was kinda late, as for the number of chapters, I don't know, I know that it has an end, but ummm…yeah, dunno yet

Guineviere: wow, you'd read a real book by me? Cool, and Merry Christmas back atcha

Ladyerudite: hey, you sound sorta Slytherin there, Draco would be proud, thanks for the review

Flipinpenname: first of all, love the pen name, secondly, I'm sorry about the long update, if I were a house elf, I'd bang myself on the head. But I'm not, so I guess I'll just apologise

Dracosbaby7: hey, thanks for the review telling me to update, I was sorta moping around the house with writes blockand just gave up for a few days, and then I got your review and was like, 'oops, maybe I should write that' so here it is, thanks again

---------------------------------------------------------

Draco found that it is impossible to be pleasant while being forced to lie in bed all day, especially when he had just spent all of yesterday in said bed as well. He was restless, irritable and was sick of everyone hovering around him and mothering him. Unfortunately, the only thing he had the energy to do was lie in bed all day and sleep, and that made him even more frustrated. However, Mrs. Weasley and the other women who would check on him seemed to find his snide comments and glares 'cute' rather than offensive. Draco figured that it had to do with the fact that they would have to wake him up to give him potions and who could really take anyone seriously when they are half awake with their hair all mussed?

Wednesday could not go any slower in Draco's opinion, and because he had been sleeping all day, Mrs. Weasley had slipped him another sleeping draught so he wouldn't keep waking up all night.

On Thursday morning Draco was ready to get up.

"No way," said Mrs. Weasley flatly, putting the breakfast tray on his lap.

"But I'm fine," Draco protested. "You said the fever was gone."

"But that does not mean you are healthy," said Mrs. Weasley firmly. "I want you to rest another day."

"No," said Draco, folding his arms across his chest. "I am not spending another day in bed. I am getting up and I am getting my laptop and I am working and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"Wow, really mature, Draco," said Harry from the doorway in his Quidditch robes. The entire family had been sleeping over at Rolly's insistence and Harry was no doubt off to practice for the World Cup.

"Didn't ask you," Draco shot back, proving the Seeker's point. Harry laughed; Draco scowled.

"Come on now," said Mrs. Weasley coaxingly. "Eat your breakfast."

A side effect of being ill must be that age decreases fifteen years because Draco looked up at her and said stubbornly "No". Harry laughed all the harder. Draco glared.

"Shut it, Potter," he growled.

"Make me," Potter taunted, just as childishly. Draco shoved the tray off his lap and started to jump out of bed, but Mrs. Weasley stopped him.

"Oh, no you don't," she said. "You will stay right there in that bed until I say you are getting up and Harry, shame on you, antagonizing the poor boy when he's still sick. Now off to practice with you and Draco, you have a nice, warm breakfast to eat."

"If I eat it, can I get up?" Draco asked, ever the Slytherin.

"Absolutely not," said Mrs. Weasley. "But if you don't eat it voluntarily, I will force you to eat it. I know quite a few charms that will do the trick."

Draco scowled but pulled the breakfast tray back on his lap again; he did not doubt that the woman would do as she had threatened. Potter gave him one last jeering look and then turned to run down the hall, but Draco sent his spoon hurtling at the Seeker and it struck him on the head.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed.

"Really, Draco," scolded Mrs. Weasley. "You could have seriously injured him."

"That's why I didn't throw the knife," said Draco darkly. Harry looked at him dubiously and then decided to leave before he actually threw the knife. Draco snorted at his hasty departure. As if he would _really_ throw a knife when Harry had to win the World Cup on Saturday, Slytherins were extremely misunderstood.

He ate the breakfast with no further complaints or cutlery-hurling incidents just to appease Mrs. Weasley, but she still wouldn't let him up. Draco considered calling for Rolly and having the house elf evict everyone from his house so that he could do whatever he damn well pleased, but he knew that he would never do something like that, no matter how satisfying the hypothetical situation was; he simply liked them too much.

Blaise and Pansy visited after breakfast, bringing Dragon and Zak with them. Between the boys jumping on his bed and then forcing him to play a kiddie version of exploding snap while trying to hold a conversation with Blaise and Pansy, Draco fell asleep a little before lunch time, which he figured later was the whole purpose of bringing the boys up. He had forgotten that they too were in Slytherin.

When he woke up for a late lunch he was in a bad mood. He hated doing nothing, he hated lying in bed for two days straight, and he hated everyone fussing over him.

He tried to be nice, he sincerely did, but after lunch, which he ate with Mrs. Weasley, Sev, and Blaise, he snapped.

Mrs. Weasley had cleared the tray and was gently tucking the blankets around him.

"How about you close your eyes and take another nap," she said.

Draco stared at her. Was she freaking serious? "No," he said, sitting up straighter and pushing away her hands. "I am not going back to sleep. I am getting up."

"Now, Draco," said Mrs. Weasley in placating tones, "you're sicker than you realize-,"

"No," said Draco firmly. "I have been lying in this bed for two days now, and that is long enough. I don't care what you say about it."

"Draco, you need to take a nap," tried Mrs. Weasley again.

"That's it," said Draco. "Rolly, come here now."

The house elf appeared with crack. "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Rolly, no person, who is in this house right now, except me, is allowed in my rooms. In fact, they're not even allowed on this floor." He thought for a minute. "Not until dinner," he added.

"Drake," said Blaise. "Come on. We're just worried-,"

Draco raised his eyebrow at Rolly who snapped his fingers. There was another crack, and everyone disappeared, including the lunch trays. Draco smiled; he really did have good house elf service. He slipped out of bed and stood, frowning when he realized that he really must be sicker than he thought because he was trembling slightly, but he chalked it up to lying in bed for who knows how long. The incident with Ginny didn't really count because he had only walked across the hall.

Draco carefully made his way to his bathroom. He hadn't showered in a week and he didn't trust hospital cleaning charms. His bathroom was a large, marble-floored room with a toilet, sink, shower, and large, circular tub. Draco looked at the bathtub enviously, but he did want to get work done today so he stripped off the hospital pajamas and stepped into the shower. He turned the water a little too hot, but stood under the spray anyway. The heat felt good, working loose muscles knotted tight from lying in the same position for a week straight. He scrubbed his hair and then his body, turning off the water when he was certain he was perfectly clean again. He grabbed a large white towel and dried off, then wrapped it around his waist as he went back into his room, noticing with disgust that he was still trembling slightly.

He had just opened the door to his closet when the door burst open.

"Draco Malf-," Ginny started, but than upon catching sight of him, blushed scarlet, clamped a hand over her eyes, and whirled around so that she was facing the opposite direction.

"Yes?" Draco asked calmly, as if she had just not walked in on him half naked.

"Mum called me at work. She said you were being difficult," said Ginny, staring at his bed, which the house elves had made up neatly while he was in the shower.

"Stay turned around," said Draco. "I'm getting dressed." He could see the tops of Ginny's ears turned red and he knew the rest of her face must be positively fuchsia. He pulled on a pair of boxers and then some well-worn, soft khaki's. "Alright I'm decent," he told her. She slowly turned around, blushing even further, if it was at all possible, when she saw his bare chest and wet hair.

"So, you were here for…?" Draco asked again, though he had heard her the first time.

"I was at work," said Ginny, attempting to regain her normal skin color, "and my mother told me about a certain someone who was throwing a childish fit and pretty much locked the door on his room."

Draco hid his own flush by pulling a white t-shirt over his head, then reaching for a button-up black one.

"You're not seriously thinking about going _into_ work, are you?" asked Ginny.

"Uh, yeah," said Draco, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Draco, you were practically comatose four days ago."

"I'm not staying in this room another minute!" said Draco, more heatedly than he needed to. He was getting a headache from everyone fussing over him. He pulled on the shirt and then pulled on a pair of socks, which was hard to do because his balance was slightly off because of the slight tremors.

"You won't make it past your door," said Ginny, studying him.

"What?" asked Draco, not really paying attention as he shoved his feet into his shoes. Why wouldn't she shut up? His head was killing him.

"You won't make it past your door," Ginny repeated.

He looked up at her and blinked. "Are you going to stop me?" he asked.

"No," said Ginny. "I won't have to."

Her implications were clear, and it made him angry.

"Let's see about that," he sneered, grabbing his wand and then searching for his cell phone. He finally spotted it on his bedside table and strode over to get it, trying to prove to Ginny that he was fine. Unfortunately striding over to the table left him slightly nauseas and his head began shooting fire through his temples.

"Draco, don't act all tough," said Ginny. "You really are sick."

"I'm not sick anymore," said Draco, shaking his head in an attempt to shake off the headache. He only succeeded in making himself dizzy. He made his way to the door, and pulled it open. He smirked at Ginny as he stepped past the door and started down the long hall.

"Alright Draco," said Ginny, as if she were reprimanding a schoolboy. "You're past the door, you proved your point, let's go back now."

"I'm going to work," said Draco.

It was amazing how long the hall way was, Draco realized. Why did it have to be so long? His steps began to waver slightly, but he pushed himself on. He was fine. He stumbled slightly, nausea making him wrap his arms around his stomach. His vision was weaving back and forth and sometimes it would spin around. Draco shook his head again, but that was a mistake as the dizziness spiked and he had to clench his mouth shut to stop from throwing up his lunch.

"Draco?" asked a soft voice behind him.

"Okay," said Draco tiredly. "I'm not going into work today."

He turned around and slid down the wall, Ginny guiding him to the floor.

"You okay?" she asked.

He didn't answer. If he opened his mouth he was afraid that he would lose the contents of his stomach and he had learned that shaking his head wasn't the best of ideas. Ginny sat down beside him.

"Put your head between your knees," she said. "It will help the nausea go away."

He did as he was told, too sick to do anything else. Ginny rubbed soothingly at his shoulders and he felt his stomach slowly settle and closed his eyes, reveling in Ginny's comforting touch.

"Now how about we go back to your room, and you can work there," Ginny said after a little while.

Draco smiled. "Sounds good."

The trip back to his bed wasn't as bad, and in a few moments he was reclining back on the pillows with his laptop on his knees and holding his cell phone to his ear as he typed with one hand.

"Yes, I am alive," he said, for what must be the sixteenth time. "Shells, seriously, I-yes, it's good to hear your voice too."

Ginny was beside him, as the bed was large enough for five people. She smiled at the eye roll he sent in her direction as she typed on her own computer.

"Just send me the reports. I want to look over the finances and make sure Ginny isn't embezzling any funds." A pillow hit him in the head, making him give a surprised grunt. He turned wide eyes on her. "I'm an invalid here," he said in mock shock.

"I thought you were fine," said Ginny sweetly.

He threw the pillow back at her; she stuck out her tongue at him.

"Yes, by email," said Draco into the phone. "Thanks, Shells. Yes, damn it, I am alive and I am perfectly fine."

Ginny snorted; he shot her a look.

"Yes, thank you Shells. Good bye."

Draco went to his email page and waited for the budget report to be sent, then he began double checking the figures. Because he had been out for so long, Draco contented himself with merely tallying up the sums and not looking at what was bought or deposited. He had almost finished when Ginny spoke up.

"Are you feeling up to having a press conference any time soon?" Ginny asked, reading over an email from a news channel. "Where you can explain in your own words what you did after the hurricane?"

"I gave Padma the scoop on that," said Draco. "Maybe after her documentary comes out."

"It did come out," said Ginny. "Early this morning on TV. Didn't she tell you?"

"No," said Draco.

"Well, I can't blame her," said Ginny. "You'll probably hate it."

"Why?" asked Draco.

"I'll just show it to you," said Ginny. "I have it on my computer."

She shifted so that she and Draco were lying side by side on the bed, their shoulders pressed up against each other. Draco moved his laptop to the side and moved in closer so that he could see the screen.

The movie started with snapshots of the damage from the earthquake as the credits scrolled across the screen, finally ending with the title 'The Last Work of Draco Malfoy?'

Draco groaned at the over dramatic title; Ginny elbowed him in the ribs to keep quiet.

Padma began narrating as the screen went dark and then appeared at the Ministry building. "On Wednesday, August 5th, the Wizarding World was literally rocked as a freak earthquake occurred; its epicenter was in the middle of Diagon Alley. Due to the economy, many felt that this would be the finally, crippling blow for the English Wizarding Community, but some refused to give up. Minister Lupin pulled a highly criticized move by handing over complete power to Draco Malfoy, son of the late Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, owner of Malfoy Enterprises, and founder of many wizarding businesses in England. Draco Malfoy had already pulled the English economy out of its two year depression and the Minister believed that he was the only one qualified for the job."

Lupin's face appeared on the screen. "Why Draco Malfoy?" he asked. "I thought it would be obvious. He's a genius when it comes to anything business or financially related. I took over the position as Minister when the Ministry was in fierce debt to many other countries, and the Ministry simply did not have the funds to oversee this mission. Draco had already brought about the recovery of the economy and I have complete faith in him that he will do it again."

Draco raised his eyebrows; he had no idea Lupin had been interviewed, much less had spoken so highly of him.

Padma's voice continued. "With the daunting task of pulling the economy out of depression yet again, Malfoy pulled together a group of experts to accompanying him. They included Simon Crow of…"

Ginny shifted slightly, resting her head lightly on his shoulder. Draco wondered if she realized what exactly she was doing, but didn't mention it. He didn't want her to move.

His own voice on the computer distracted him. He was giving the speech he had first given the Op. E team. He watched his taped self. "Good morning and congratulations."

"I liked that speech," said Ginny. "Did you just give it off the top of your head?"

"I'm always good at spilling a bunch of bullshit," said Draco, causing her to laugh.

He had to admit that Padma had done a pretty good job with the documentary as the movie continued. She didn't focus on him all of the time, but the others on the team, showing clearly exactly what was happening. She did do a lot of candid shots, including a bunch of arguments that most people would have left out of a documentary, but that was how Padma did things. She caught real life, and she didn't taint it any. She even got the part of Reynolds and Crow's argument, and his own reaction, which had been the fist smashing on the table and his oh-so grown up yell of 'Shut up!'.

He actually flushed when the rest of the argument was shown, with Lisa's report that the people were getting restless and relating him to Lord Voldemort because he was going to take all of their money and then his own response. 'You can tell the public that, if I was the next Dark Lord, I would kill them off right now while their sitting helplessly in their tents, which isn't sounding like a bad idea at the moment.' And then Padma had taped everyone leaving, and caught his small groan and slump, while he tugged on his hair, looking tired and much older that twenty-three.

But Padma had also recorded the good times too, such as Ginny and Jon's impromptu food fights, Shelia's random singing moments, and Mr. and Mrs. Rook's secret little kisses and hand holding.

Then Padma had recorded that Wednesday when it looked like they wouldn't get everyone in their houses and Draco and Ginny's fight, where Draco admitted that he didn't know if he was going to be able to pull this off, and that he was facing bankruptcy and spending a bunch of his own personal money on the relief efforts.

"The public absolutely loved that part," said Ginny. "I think they finally realize how much you put into helping them, oh, they like that part too," she added as Draco chucked a pillow at Ginny, and then saw Padma, saying 'You had better not have gotten that on tape.'

The movie went on to show the Op. E team hauling furniture in the rain, and then the celebration that followed when they found out that they had made their deadline. Padma had even included shots of families coming back into their homes, with looks of amazement and tearful happiness on their faces.

"Ooo, my favorite part is coming up," said Ginny, smiling wickedly.

Draco groaned when he saw what it was. Padma had filmed him passed out on the Minister's couch, and then filmed him waking up with his hair hopelessly tousled and looking strangely Potter-like and his grey eyes completely unguarded with a look of confusion that made him look like a teenager.

"Remind me to kill Padma," Draco told Ginny as Padma also caught the look of shock on his face when he entered the room for his birthday party.

"I think it's cute," said Ginny, smiling up at him. He scowled to cover up the fact he nearly smiled back.

Padma's documentary went on to record the rest of the renovations and then finally his illness, starting with the sneeze at his birthday party, to how haggard and pale he looked at work (which made Draco wince, he really didn't look good) to Mrs. Weasley fussing over him at the family dinner. Draco frowned at that. Then she had recorded last Wednesday, and Draco's coughing fits, and then finally his collapse.

It was weird, watching himself gathering up his things with a rough statement that he was sick and going home. He watched himself stand and turn around to face Ginny, and coincidentally the camera, and then his face went sheet white and he toppled. Ginny ran to his fallen form, as did Shelia, while Samantha screamed. Ginny's face was as white as his, but she was calm, calling for Samantha to Floo St. Mungo's and levitating his body up, and then the screen went dark.

Ginny's hand found his arm and she held onto him. "I thought you were dead," she admitted as the screen flickered back on to reveal his form lying still on a hospital bed. Draco looked down at her as she watched the computer. She was in a long pale green skirt with a sleeveless multi-colored tight top. It seemed a little hippy like and Draco wondered if Shells was rubbing off on her, but he didn't mention it. He thought she looked beautiful. He breathed in her scent, noticing the steady rise and fall of her chest. It was soothing, hearing the sound of relaxed breathing next to him, and he stifled a yawn trying to pay attention to the movie.

It was no use. He vaguely noted that Padma had recorded bits of his recovery at home; he hadn't even noticed her camera, but then again, he had been pretty out of it. His eyes slowly closed, only to open as Ginny nudged him slightly.

"Draco, the movie's over," she whispered.

"S'nice," he muttered.

She pushed the computer off her lap and then started to move from his side, but he latched onto her arm.

"M'cold," he said, keeping her leaning against his side.

"Get a blanket," she said.

"You're warmer."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment to get me to stay? Because if so, you need to do better than that."

"You're beautiful," said Draco truthfully, wanting her to stay, if only for a while.

She hesitated, her amber eyes reflecting her inner battle.

"Please?" asked Draco. She sighed, but leaned against him again, her head resting against the top of his shoulder and her red hair spilling over him. He could feel her body gradually relax and slowly he drifted to sleep, her deep breaths soon matching his.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I got a picture of it," said a loud whisper that sounded a lot like Blaise.

"I want one," said a voice that sounded like it would be laughing soon.

"Most definitely," said another.

"I wonder if he'll let me publish it?" one mused.

He opened his eyes to find Blaise, Pansy, Harry, Padma, Snape, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley staring down at him. He frowned. What were they looking at?

Something shifted against his side and he looked down to see Ginevra Weasley lying with her head pillowed on his chest and his arm around her. She was pressed up against his side and her long hair was spread over his torso. He looked back up at the spectators and raised an eyebrow. "Well?" he drawled.

Blaise, Pansy, Harry, Padma, and Hermione all looked delighted. Ron looked murderous, Fred and George looked as if they wanted to laugh, Mrs. Weasley looked sternly disapproving and Snape's face was blank, though his eyebrow was also raised.

"Exactly what were you doing?" asked Blaise with the tone of a disappointed mother. Fred and George finally burst into the laughter they had been suppressing.

"We were working," said Draco. "We fell asleep." He shrugged as if it were no big deal, causing Ginny to shift again, but closer to him as she wrapped one arm over his chest.

"Working," said Harry, nodding sagely. "Ah, yes. If only we could all work as Malfoy does."

"What are all of you doing?" asked Draco. "I thought I threw you out."

"It's dinner time," said Pansy. "We came to wake you up."

"Dinner already?" asked Draco. He really must have been tired.

"Time flies when your having fun, doesn't it?" asked Harry, causing most of the group to snicker.

Ginny mumbled something intelligible in her sleep and Draco gently touched her shoulder. "Ginevra," he said. "Time to wake up."

Ginny woke up very cutely. Her face scrunched up slightly, causing her freckled nose to wrinkle, and she arched her back slightly stretching, and then her eyes flickered open, before fastening on his face. "Hi," she whispered.

He jerked his head in the direction of the others and she turned her head, looking at the faces grinning at her. "Oh shit," she breathed so only Draco could hear, but she only flushed slightly and she crossed her arms, staring right back at them. "Ronald, why are you glaring so?" she asked.

Ron gaped at her. "Why-? Because you're sleeping with Malfoy!"

Ginny turned her head to look at Draco and then back at Ron. "Oh, it _is_ Malfoy. Darn, and here I was thinking it was Snape. What can I say? I love a Slytherin."

Ron spluttered, Harry and Blaise burst into laughter along with Fred and George who were wiping at the tears filling their eyes, the girls giggled, Snape's gaze darkened, and Mrs. Weasley smiled slightly.

"Do you mind leaving now?" asked Ginny. "We'll be down for dinner in a few minutes."

"Absolutely not!" said Ron.

"I'm sure Draco can have Rolly remove you all again," said Ginny, shrugging.

The group grudgingly obliged with many backwards glances, but the door finally shut behind them and only then did Ginny's cheeks flame red.

"Oh, Merlin," she said. "That was embarrassing."

"Was a little awkward," Draco agreed, not moving and hoping she wouldn't either but she finally sat up.

"Well, if all other qualities fail you, you make a good pillow," said Ginny, straightening out her clothes.

"I'll remember that," said Draco. "And as embarrassing as this was for you, thanks."

"For what?" asked Ginny suspiciously.

"Well, I think your mother was so shocked, she forgot to tell me to stay in bed and that she'll bring dinner up because I'm still recovering."

He shouldn't have spoken. The door opened and Mrs. Weasley came back in carrying a tray of food.

"Don't even think about it, young man. You are still too sick to go down to dinner."

Ginny laughed as she slipped her sandals back on and headed out into the hall. She paused by the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. The firelight made her hair shine with golden highlights and her eyes seemed to sparkle.

"You really did jinx yourself there Malfoy."

He had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but his mouth wasn't working properly, so he just smiled at her. She really was beautiful.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Friday Draco was able to get up after breakfast and go downstairs to visit the rest of the family who celebrated his liberation by providing him ample amounts of entertainment, which he could have really used for the days when he was imprisoned in his own bed.

His only source of frustration was that he had to be helped down the stairs and into the large parlor where the family was gathered as long exertions still made him slightly dizzy. Still, he couldn't complain because he wasn't fighting back nausea or collapsing as he had last time.

Draco stayed in one of the large, ivory suede armchairs for practically the whole day with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders because if he wanted to go to the Quidditch World Cup, Mrs. Weasley didn't want him to get chilled. She did allow him to do some work, which he was both surprised and grateful for, but other than that, Draco merely watched the kids play and talked with Blaise, Pansy, and Ginny.

Saturday he woke up early so that they could get ready for the game. As Draco practically owned the Canons, he had booked a rather expensive portkey that left in the early afternoon and the game was scheduled to start at eight that night. Mrs. Weasley was refusing to let him stay in the tents, and was forcing him to go home after the game, telling him he could come back if the game took a few more nights.

It was a surprisingly cold day for August, but then again it was nearer to September. Draco was wearing a t-shirt shirt and khaki's, but Mrs. Weasley made him put on a coat instead of the sweater he was hoping to get by in. She also had the doctor come over to examine him because his cough had come back. The doctor said that it was actually a good thing he was coughing because it meant that the mucus in his lungs was finally clearing out and that it was the last stage in his recovery.

Draco later figured that perhaps his expression was a little too triumphant because Mrs. Weasley made him go change into warmer clothes. By the time she was convinced he wasn't going to get chilled in the colder weather he had on a pair of thick socks and sneakers, jeans, the long sleeved orange shirt Ginny had bought him, his black leather jacket, a black knit hat, and black leather gloves. She was also bringing a blanket along for him.

They arrived at the large field at exactly 2:14 pm and were hustled out of the way for a group arriving at 2:16. The younger children were left at home, being babysat by Rolly, and the only ones who came were Gavin, Gabriella, Michael, and Emeric. The dark haired boy was much less angry, now that they had figured out what was going on with him, and his surly mood had disappeared shortly after his first vision of the earthquake. Right now Fred and George had him in stitches trying to get the young Seer to tell them who was going to win the Quidditch game so they could place a bet.

Zak had come as well, but only because there was no way they could leave him at home. The little boy was so excited that he was running back and forth from person to person, jumping around as he did so, pretending that he was flying. Sev finally scooped him up as they reached the field of tents so he wouldn't get lost among the crowds and crowds of people.

"I think this is even larger than the last one that was held in England," said Ron as they pushed their way through a gaggle of fifty people or so who were all talking loudly in French and seemed to think it polite to stay gathered in the middle of the pathway.

There were quite a few French speakers, but even more German ones as the German team Berlin Blitz were the Cannons opponents for the World Cup.

"It's because Harry's playing," said Ginny. "Of course most of England is coming to see the game, but for those people who don't like Quidditch, mainly blonde teenaged girls, they're coming to see Harry."

As soon as she spoke a flock of giggling teenaged girls in tight robes and make up pushed past them, squealing and hugging as they met up with another girl. Shrieks of "Oh my gosh, you look so _good_!" caused the men to wince and the women to shake their heads remembering the days when they did the same.

They reached their allotted plot, which was a large piece of land as there were so many of them, and the tents were quickly set up with a bit of magic. Mrs. Weasley was immediately ushering Draco in to sit down and have a cup of warm tea and Draco didn't protest. It had been a long walk and although he did get dizzy, he was rather tired.

Once he had finished his tea, he went out to sit with the others and watched the goings on of thousands of other witches and wizards. Zak had found a couple of friends to play with around his age. The other children had a few kiddie brooms, the ones that only went a few feet in the air, and they all took turns riding them. Zak was a good flyer for one so young, doing miniature dives and swoops that made the other kids cheer. He spent the whole afternoon flying, and pretended not to hear Hermione when she called him back for dinner.

"I'll get him," said Draco, getting to his feet. He walked over to the unsuspecting child and snatched him neatly off the broom, and then returned it to the young mother who had come out to call her own children is as well.

"Thank you," she said.

"Thanks for letting him play," said Draco. "I suppose I'll have to get him his own broom now."

"Broom!" sang Zak happily. "Broom for me!" He pulled off Draco's hat and stuck it over his wild curls.

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed. "You're Draco Malfoy!"

Draco inwardly sighed; he had been hoping to avoid any of these sorts of situations. The woman's cry had attracted the attention of several other tents, and before long there was a crowd of wizards and witches around him, though none of them were approaching.

"Yes," he said simply to the woman and holding out his hand. "And you are?"

"Lynn," she said, taking his hand and blushing. "Lynn Aires."

"It was nice to meet you, and thank you again for letting Zak play, though I have to take him back for dinner now."

"Oh, of course," said the woman. "Have a nice evening."

"You too," said Draco, and he returned to the campsite with a horde of eyes watching him as he did.

"You just can't go anywhere without making a scene, can you?" asked Ginny, shaking her head at him.

"I can't help it," said Draco, shrugging. "It's not my fault I'm so incredibly handsome."

Ginny just shook her head and handed him a plate of dinner.

At seven o'clock the entire field of wizards and witched made their way to the large stadium that rose towering into the air. The noise was incredible with everyone shouting to each other in hopes to be heard. Draco had bought a private box again for them to stay in, right under the top box, but this one was large enough to hold them all.

The kids were jumping with excitement and Zak was staring down at the crowd with large eyes from the safety of Sev's arms. Draco had forgotten how intense the pre-game jitters were, and he wasn't even the one playing. He felt a moment's stab of pity for Harry before calming himself and taking a seat next to Ginny.

At twenty of the pre-game show with the team's "mascots" appearing. The Berlin Blitz had thirty or so blonde witches dressed in toga's that threw lightning bolts as they danced, and the Cannons had a group of acrobats being shot out of cannons in pleasing showers of orange sparks.

By the time eight o'clock drew near the cheering and screaming had reached a max and the entire audience shouted out the last ten seconds, letting loose sparks and sirens as the announcer called out the names of the players on the team as seven orange blurs raced along after seven white ones. Harry's name was followed with a roar so loud Draco doubted he'd be hearing much after the night.

The referee came out in a blue uniform, and after pausing just to build up the suspense, kicked open the box and rose into the air with the balls.

The first hour of the game was surprisingly boring. The Chasers of a team would race down to the other end and try to get the Quaffle in, but it would be blocked by the Keeper. Then the other Chasers would get control and try to sink it in the hoops of the other team, but it too would be blocked. By two hours, the score was 40 Cannons, 50 Blitz.

There was one almost exciting moment when the Blitz Seeker, Leon Koch went into a steep dive, but Harry recognized it for what it was, a Wronski feint, and ignored it. At the top of the third hour, Harry spotted the snitch and took off after it cutting dangerously close to a Blitz Chaser and drawing the attention of the entire crowd. Koch was right on Harry's tail as the two weaved in and out of players, Harry getting a slight graze on the arm from a bludger, but continuing in the pursuit. By now everyone was on their feet as they watched the two Seekers progress through the air, but finally they were both cut off from the Snitch when they had to pull up sharply to avoid running into the goal posts.

There was a collective groan from the crowd, but the spectacular chase caused the players to find new energy. The Blitz Chasers pulled a fast switch and sent the Quaffle hurtling towards the hoop, but Oliver made an astounding save, and sent the Quaffle to Marks. The Cannon Chasers then raced towards the goal, passing the Quaffle so quickly between the three of them that the announcer had a hard time keeping up with who was who, and this time when they threw it at the hoops, it went in.

The Cannon fans went wild and the next hour of the game was the most exciting that Draco could remember watching. The Chasers fought over the Quaffle, nearly coming to blows with the Blitz team, and the Cannons pulled ahead, 90 to 70. The Beaters were murder, whacking bludgers that didn't intentionally go after the players, but would somehow wind up directly in the Chasers path. The Seekers were at it as well. Koch went into another Wronski, and this time Harry followed him, but Draco had a feeling it was because Harry was more bored than anything. And then, when the third hour was coming to a close, Harry spotted the Snitch right by the Blitz hoops.

Harry took after it like a shot, Koch following on his heels. The Snitch led them in a merry chase, in and out of the goalposts. Koch was pulling equal to Harry, Harry swerved wide around a hoop, causing Koch to go wide as well, but the German Seeker was forced too far right, and smacked into the middle hoop. Draco was both impressed and a little afraid that he had been rubbing off on Harry a little too much. Without Koch interfering, Harry quickly caught up to the Snitch and grasped it firmly in his hand.

Pandemonium broke out. It was the first time the Cannons had ever won the World Cup, and because the Boy-Who-Lived had caught it, even the Blitz supporters were cheering. Draco's own box was full of tears and laughter as Draco's back was thumped a good many times and his head was tousled so that his hat came off and his hair was hopelessly tangled.

The group headed down to the field where the Cannons had landed, and because Draco was the sponsor for the team, they were let on to go great the players with hugs and cheers. The team greeted Draco by hoisting him onto their shoulders along with Harry, and parading around the field. Draco was breathless from laughter by the time he was finally set back on the ground and he pounded Harry on the back.

"That was no dumb luck, Potter," he shouted to be heard over the ruckus. "That was practically Slytherin the way you forced him to go too wide, and I must say I have never been prouder!"

"It was easy!" Harry shouted back. "I felt no pressure at all, because I knew that if I failed, you really would go and buy the Cup."

"Well, you saved me seven million galleons, then, so thank you."

"I expect a nice Christmas bonus then," Harry yelled back.

"Don't count on it Potter!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco and Ginny portkeyed back to the quiet of Malfoy Estate late that night, or rather, early morning. They were both still high off of all the excitement, and none of them felt like going to bed just then.

"Butterbeer?" asked Draco

"Sure," said Ginny.

They wandered down to the kitchens where the house elves immediately supplied them with two bottles and tried to press biscuits and fruit on them as well, but they declined and then escaped to the library where they sat in companionable silence, drinking the warm liquid.

"That was a great game," said Draco, shaking his head, and downing another gulp.

Ginny yawned, but nodded. "My ears are still ringing," she said.

"Mine too," said Draco. "And thanks for coming back with me. I figure you probably wanted to stay to celebrate with the rest."

"I did," said Ginny, "but they all probably wanted to celebrate with their spouses, and since Mum sent you back, I figured I may as well go along so I'm not stuck as a third wheel."

"I know what you mean," said Draco. "There are times with Pansy and Blaise that I feel like an intruder, and it's my own bloody house."

Ginny laughed, then yawned again. "Well, I should probably go to bed," she said.

"Back home?" asked Draco.

"No, I've been camping out in the room across yours," said Ginny

"Well, then, since it's on the way, I'll escort you there," said Draco, holding out his elbow. She linked her arm through his and they made their way through the large house to their rooms.

"Here we are, milady," said Draco, releasing her hand and giving her a bow. "And here I must bid you adieu."

Ginny laughed lightly, but looked at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. Draco found himself diving into those depths, wondering what she was thinking. He barely noticed her whispered "Draco?"

He raised an eyebrow in response not wanting to break the silence. She continued in a whisper, very hesitantly. "You know, I came back with you for another reason."

"That was?" Draco asked even softer, his heart clenching tightly.

"Well, I wanted to," she said. "To be with you, that is. I guess what I'm trying to say is, is that…," she trailed off. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked in a rush.

"More than anything," said Draco, stepping closer. She did as well, staring up at him, her eyes sweeping over his face.

"Good," she said, then reached up and pulled his head to hers. His arms instinctively wrapped themselves around her, closing the remaining distance so that he could feel her body pressed burningly hot to his. Her lips were parted, and this time she sought entrance to his mouth. He gave it to her without hesitation and she was the one to deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth as if charting and claiming some new, untamed land and all he could do was marvel in her beauty as one hand reached up to knot itself in her hair. They pulled away slightly for air, and this time his mouth pressed light, little kisses all over her lips, marking them as his own.

"Merlin, Draco," she gasped, her breath hot on his cheeks as he grew slightly heady with her saying his name in that gasping voice. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

It was as if cold water had just been thrown in his face. He staggered back, his hands not pushing her away, but rather keeping her from following him. He stared at her, dread seeping into his mind. What had he been doing? What had he-

"Draco?" she asked, eyes still bright and voice still slightly breathless. "What's wrong?"

He stared at her, knowing that his eyes must be reflecting his panic because he could not for the life of him find that mask he so wanted to put on right now.

"No," he managed, shocked at the raggedness of the word that left his mouth. "I can't, we can't do this."

She blinked. "What do you mean?" she asked, her own voice confused.

"This," said Draco, gesturing at the two of them. "It just can't!"

"What's wrong with it?" asked Ginny.

Draco cast around helplessly for a reason to tell her. "You said it was a mistake," he said, remembering her words from their last kiss. "You didn't want it, we're in a business relationship and this is a mistake."

"I was afraid," Ginny admitted quietly. Draco had not been expecting that answer and he looked at her completely confused. She continued. "I was afraid of getting into a relationship, especially because we were working together, and because I had never felt like that before."

"Like what?" asked Draco, not being able to stop himself.

She smiled up at him gently. "I didn't want to admit to myself that I cared about you more than I should have. I've never really been in love before, besides stupid childhood crushes and I was afraid, but I'm not afraid anymore."

Draco swore under his breath. This was bad, very,very bad. "You-you love me?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled again, the brilliant, reassuring smile that made him want to collapse in her arms and have her run her fingers through his hair and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

"It's okay," she said, reaching out to him, but he backed away.

"No, it isn't," he said. "Oh Merlin, it's not okay."

She withdrew her hand. "What's not okay about it?" she asked, with a flash in her eyes and a bit of Weasley temper showing through.

"Everything!" Draco yelled, running his hands agitatedly through his hair and turning around to rest his forehead on the cool surface of the wall.

"Tell me what's wrong then," said Ginny.

"I can't!" said Draco, pounding a fist on the wall, then pushing off to turn around again.

"Why can't you?" she asked.

"Because I can't!" he said, his voice raw with emotion.

"That's not a reason!" she yelled at him, getting angry.

"It's the only one I can give you," he shouted back. "Just mind your own business!"

"This is my business! Now you tell me what is going on, right this instant!"

"I already told you. I can't!"

"Yes, you can. You want this as badly as I do, don't you try to tell me otherwise. Now you tell me what it is right now, or I will walk through this door and never talk to you again!"

He stared at her, wanting her so badly, but at the same time, he couldn't. It would be easier if she just left, left him angry so that she would start to hate him so that when he-, he stopped his thoughts right there, staring into her amber eyes.

"I can't," he whispered, brokenly.

She looked at him, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to decide whether to be angry or sad and deciding on angry.

"Fine!" she hissed, whirling around.

He couldn't take that; he wanted to pull her back and kiss her again, and then do a bunch of other things to her until she gasped his name in that voice of hers, and then do a few more things until she screamed his name with burning desire in those amber eyes. Mostly he just wanted to hold her, and to know that she loved him.

"Ginny," he called, his voice cracking with his desperation. She paused and Draco waited with baited breath. It was the first time he had ever called her Ginny, would she turn around? She did.

"Tell me, Draco," she said in a cool, commanding voice. "I want to know that it isn't me. I want to know this it isn't because you don't love me."

He took a breath, swallowing hard. "Gin," he started, then stopped to lick his lips, nervously. "Ginny," he tried again. "I'm dying."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ohhhhh, I am evil. I am so completely evil, it's not cool. Actually it is, isn't it? (scratches head wondering if I should be proud of this fact) Anyway, this is my evil cliff hanger, but because it is so evil, I will try to get the next chapter up within five days. Reviews help, it's a fact.

And I'm sorry this chapter took so long getting up, writers block is a terrible thing, plus I had the rest of finals along with moving back home (I'm here til February) and then holidays and shopping and the like. But now that I'm home I should get the chapters up quicker, should being the operative word there.

So yes, review and wait for the next chapter.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I may not be as evil as I am by leaving you with that terrible cliff hanger over Christmas.

You love me, don't you? That's five days right there. I actaully had this finished Tuesday afternoon, but my computer went stupid and wouldn't let me upload it, either that or it was an internet problem. I figured you deserved the quick update because I got 21 reviews for that chapter, that's like my first five chapters combined! Woot! Thanks to:

**kattie**: I'm sorry you think of me as an evil stinky pants of an author (lol, I loved that) and yes, it is the dagger, good job  
**GoldenFawkes**: A Walk to Remember made me cry as well (or almost) I doubt I could write a story like that, but it's not a play on words  
**Neca**: Yup, it's the dagger, congrats, and I think I got the basis of your German, and thanks  
**Guineviere**: Merry Christmas to you too, and thank you, and I did update soon!  
**FroggHopper**: Aww, I'm sorry that you're heart is breaking, thanks for the review  
**padfootedmoony**: I'm Slytherin? Yay! And I updated soon so you don't have to hurt me  
**icicle7**: lol, thanks for reviewing, because everyone told me to update soon, I did  
**Flipinpenname**: I know it's evil, I feel slightly guilty, slightly, happy new year!  
**QuinkyDink**: oh good, I'm glad you were like "Draco, what are you doing?" because at that time no one knew, it's hard keeping that a secret when it's from his POV and he's the main character  
**ghettoxlilazngrl**: I'm glad you thought it was a good chapter, and hopefully you weren't too impatient  
**CoolMilena**: Congrats on figuring it out, and thanks for reviewing!  
**Ladyerudite**: hey, nothing wrong with Hufflepuff, and thanks so much for the awesome long review, when i get reviews that actually comment on different aspects of my writing style, it defiantly encourages me, so thanks again!  
**Alexandria J. Malfoy**: lol, your review made me laugh, here's some more  
**Sweetmly117**: haha, I updated, I updated, and pretty quickly too, thanks for the review (hey, that rhymed!)  
**pix**: yup, he's dying, more explained in the following chapter, here it is!  
**sarah**: yup, it's the dagger that Lucius used, congrats, thanks for the review  
**Ada Achlys**: hey, wow, thanks for that really flattering review (preens in front of computer screen) and thanks for the suggestion  
**louey31**: nope, not shitting you, unfortunately, thanks for the review  
**Slifion**: lol, I feel loved, thanks for the review, and I did update pretty soon (for me at least)  
**Carla**: yup, went away far to quickly for the knife to really be pointless, thank you for the review  
**Chaney**: no lump of coal, but I love the line 'best worst cliff hanger ever" it made me laugh, and feel special, and start writing the next chapter, here it is

And yes, I learned how to **bold** things, woot! Just a little technologically challenged.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_He took a breath, swallowing hard. "Gin," he started, then stopped to lick his lips, nervously. "Ginny," he tried again. "I'm dying."_

Ginny stared at him. "You're what?" she asked.

He felt somehow relieved that his secret was out. "Ginevra, I'm dying," he said again.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You just got better; you're not dying."

She was trying to get him to admit that this was all some sort of joke. It wasn't.

"Ginev-Ginny," he said, managing to smile at her; he always did think of her as a Ginny. "It's the truth. I've been dying for six years now."

"No," she said, again, shaking her head, denying his words. "You're not dying."

"Ginny," he said simply.

She stared at him, her mouth opening to speak but then closing again. Her brows were knitted as she tried to take this information in. "You-You're serious." It wasn't a question; it was an observation.

"I am," he said quietly.

Her eyes reflected all of her questions and all of her confusion and all of her emotions. "How?" she asked finally, not being able to say anything else.

Draco jerked his head towards his room. "I'll show you," he said. He entered his room and pulled open the drawer on the bedside table, taking out the book that lay in there, then kicking off his shoes and sitting on his large bed. Ginny took off her shoes as well and sat across from him with her legs crossed and face white.

"It explains in here," said Draco, looking down at the book in his hands. "I took it from Snape's office after the last battle."

"What happened?" asked Ginny, her voice trembling only slightly.

Draco let out a breath and his fingers went to his side where his scar was. "You know that I was stabbed by Lucius during the battle, actually, stabbed probably isn't the best word because he threw the knife, but either way, I ended up with a knife sticking out of my stomach. The thing was, when I pulled it out, the blade and the hilt of the knife turned into dust. I didn't realize it until a few days later when I woke up."

"What does it mean?" asked Ginny.

"I found this book in Sev's quarters when I went to see him," said Draco, holding up the red leather book. He flipped open to the page he had read practically a thousand times, then showed the picture to Ginny. "That's the dagger he used."

She took the book from his hands and looked at the sketch. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Positive," said Draco.

There was silence as she read the page, twisting a strand of hair round and round her finger.

"What's this Seven Year Curse?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Basically what it sounds like," said Draco. "For seven years the victim knows that he is going to die, but before the seven years are up, he gets his heart's desire, so it's that much harder to let go."

"It says there's a cure," said Ginny.

Draco shook his head. "It's a family curse, and the family of the victim has to break it, and since my family is dead, well, not much to be done." He shrugged.

Ginny gaped at him. "That's it? You're just giving up?"

Draco let out a mirthless chuckle. "Oh, don't think I haven't tried. Why do you think I went to America? They have the best curse-breaking research down there. They can cure almost any family or ancestral curse, but mine is just one of those that can't be fixed."

"And you're okay with this?" asked Ginny, incredulous and slightly angry.

"DABDA," said Draco, quietly.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"The five psychological stages of terminal illness," said Draco. "Denial is the first one, that's why I left. I figured that if I went away, it wouldn't be true, so I kept lying to myself for two years. Then I got angry, for about three months. Then I went through this bargaining stage where I donated to every charity I could find, until the depression set in for about a year, and then I finally came to terms with it. I later heard about the depression over here, the economic one that is and I figured, hey, what a way to go, saving the very world my father tried to destroy. I suppose you could say it's my last act of rebellion," he said, smiling at the thought of his father turning in his grave.

"It's not funny!" Ginny exclaimed, outraged at the smile.

"Well, that's two of the stages, denial and anger," said Draco, still smiling, not heeding her command.

She slapped him, hard. His head whipped to the side and he could feel a red mark spreading. He gingerly touched his cheek and turned to look at her. She was staring at him in shock, her hand pressed over her mouth and her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. Oh Merlin, you're dying and I slapped you."

"Hey," he said, reaching over and taking her hand away from her mouth. "It's fine."

She nodded and looked away, trying to regain her composure. There was silence for a while.

"I shouldn't have come back," said Draco, shaking his head.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ginny.

Draco ran a hand through his hair and tugged. "I came back thinking just to fix the economy; I wasn't taking the curse seriously. I knew I was going to die, but once I accepted it, I realized that I really wasn't going to be that upset at leaving this world. I had a few friends, but nothing really… really enthralling. There was nothing that was keeping me here besides my money, and it was never about the money, it was about my business succeeding. So I came back." He gave another mirthless laugh. "I wasn't expecting to get my heart's desire. For one thing, even I didn't know what it was, for the other, well, what can the richest man in the world possibly desire that he doesn't have already?"

"What was it?" asked Ginny, wiping her eyes and looking at him.

"You," said Draco. "You and Sev and Blaise and Harry and Pansy and all the rest. Dragon and Zak too. I wanted a real family. People that actually cared about me, and would fuss over me when I was sick, fuss until I got annoyed, but at the same time, I would love every minute of it, because I would know that they cared." He broke off, smiling slightly. "But mostly I wanted you, Gin. Well, not you specifically, but someone, someone to care about, someone to love."

She stared at him. "There's nothing to be done?" she asked finally.

He shook his head. "No," he said simply.

"And no one else knows?"

"No," he said. "And I'd rather you not tell anyone. I want to live these last months like nothing is wrong, at least while I can hide it."

Ginny looked a little startled. "You mean no one else has any idea that you're-that you're…you know."

"Dying?" Draco supplied. "No, no one. It would just make things a little awkward, all of this treating me like an invalid, and always mindful of my feelings. I couldn't live with that."

"You're going to die with that," said Ginny, rather bluntly. She immediately blushed, and looked down, embarrassed at her tactlessness.

"But the point is that, right now, I'm still living, and as far as I know, I'm perfectly healthy. I just have a death sentence hanging over my head."

Ginny flinched slightly and Draco cursed his unfeeling statement.

"Ginny," he said, catching her hand again, and waiting until she looked into his eyes. "Ginny, I never meant for you to get hurt through all this. It was the other reason I chose you to work with me. I never thought that I would ever form a real friendship with Weasley's baby sister, much less actually…," he trailed off. "Perhaps it's better off unsaid, but know this, if I had any idea that…_this_ would happen, I would have never taken you from France."

Ginny nodded silently, then leaned forward and Draco pressed his lips once more to hers, but this was a chaste, slow kiss, and Draco could feel tears sliding down her cheeks, and mingling between them, and then she pulled back and left the room, grabbing her shoes and shutting the door quietly behind her.

Draco leaned back onto the pillows and stared at the door, idly playing with one of the tassels on a throw pillow until he fell asleep, and when he did finally fall asleep, he dreamt of the field.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco found it surprisingly easy to work with Ginny in the days following the night when he told her his secret. She was not finding it as simple. He knew because he would often catch her furiously wiping at her eyes, or staring off into space. She started avoiding him, which was easier for her, but he hated every minute he could not see her. He may not be able to get in a relationship with her, for fear of hurting her, but that did not mean he didn't worship her from afar.

In the month after the earthquake, Draco's businesses prospered greater than he could have ever imagined, and the public absolutely adored him. He was starting to build another subdivision for his employees and started a new maternity leave policy which included a daycare for the working witch with children. He couldn't walk down the street without someone stopping him to thank him, and Draco finally realized how Potter exactly felt with all of this fame.

Ever since the Quidditch game, Harry's popularity had increased tenfold, Yes, everyone loves a hero, but they idolize sports figures. Padma and Harry finally made a public announcement of their involvement so that the press would stop printing tabloids and for the fan letters with pictures of beautiful women would stop coming in. It didn't help.

September came and went, but left a perpetual chill in the air. By the time October came around the leaves were practically all red, orange, and yellow. Draco personally thought it one of the prettiest autumns ever, and he enjoyed every minute of it, knowing that it would be his last.

He never dwelt that long on his own mortality or his approaching death, he frankly had too much to do, but it was always in the back of his mind, the knowledge that each night marked the end of one more day that had passed, and in its passing, had brought him one step closer to the end. It made him drink in every moment to its fullest, which was why he was allowing Pansy to unstraighten his hair and brush out his curls.

"Why does my hair have to be curly again?" he asked. It was the Friday before Halloween and there was a costume party at the Burrow. To make it a little more interesting, the adults were dressing in a theme: stylized Muggle clothing.

"Because you're a 'surfer dude'," said Pansy with an air of infinite patience as she had answered this question a thousand times.

"Why do I have to be a surfer?" asked Draco.

"Because you've been to California," said Pansy, now ruffling the curls.

"So has Padma," said Draco.

"You've lived in California," said Pansy. "Now, I lay out your costume on your bed, so you can go get changed now."

"Who are you going to be?" asked Draco.

"A cheerleader," said Pansy, giving him a push towards the bed. Draco took one look at the costume and then turned to glare at Pansy.

"Exactly why did I let you pick out my outfit?" he asked.

"Because you were busy in a conference all week," said Pansy, giving him a sweet smile. "Now get dressed."

Draco frowned as she shut the door and stared at the khaki shorts and bright Hawaiian shirt in mottled red, orange and pink. Oh no, he did not wear pink, or red for that matter if he could help it. He walked to his wardrobe and opened the bottom drawer. After rummaging underneath his socks, he found the tight, black, spandexy surfer's shirt that had been a gag gift one Christmas. He actually used it one time when Mark Travers had tried to teach him how to surf. Tried being the operative word there; Draco suspected he had made a fool of himself.

Draco pulled on the shirt and zipped up the back, then he pulled on the long khaki shorts and sandals. He glanced in the mirror and had to force himself not to shudder. If you dyed his hair a darker blond, and gave him spray on tanner, he would look like Mark Travers.

An hour later and all of the kids were dressed and ready. They were exempt from the theme as most had picked out their own costumes. Dragon was, of course, a dragon, dressed in green shirt and pants with scales drawn on them and wings attached to the back of his shirt.

"Draco, where'd you get that shirt?" asked Pansy, coming down in a short blue and white pleated skirt with a matching sweater top and pom-poms. She was also holding Amandine, who had a princess dress on.

Draco shrugged. "I did live in California," he said.

"You really have gone surfing before, haven't you?" Pansy asked with a teasing smile.

Draco didn't answer, which told Pansy what she needed to know. She smirked at him and surveyed Lida and Dragon who were waiting impatiently for their father. He finally came running down the stairs in a black suit with a black tie and sunglasses.

"Who are you?" asked Draco

"You can't tell?" asked Blaise in a heavy Italian accent.

"Mafia?" asked Draco, and Blaise grinned broadly.

"That's the one. Look at this." He pulled out a black handgun and aimed it at Draco and pulled the trigger. A stream of water hit him in the face.

"A squirt gun?" asked Draco, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Hey, no guns around the kids, you know?"

Draco shook his head and Flooed up the Burrow. "Shall we then?"

The party was a success. The kids had way too much candy than was good for them, and the adults had way too much fun. Harry, who was dressed as a jock, kept chasing after Padma, who was dressed as a 'nerd' with black, thick framed glasses, a grey woolen skirt, and a blouse with a bow neck tie. Bill, on the other hand was dressed like a 'geek' a small and subtle difference. The Weasley twins were dressed as farmers, with plaid flannel shirts and cowboy boots and hats.

Ginny was gorgeous as always in a white strap dress that was quite simple and short. Her hair was down in loose curls with a necklace of flowers around her neck along with a peace sign. She danced around the room barefoot singing a song about trees and love. She nearly got the award for 'most true to costume' but Draco raised a challenging eyebrow and said in a perfect American accent "Dude girl, just sit down and chill, ya know?"

Not to be out done, Blaise got up with his squirt gun and went around the room knocking people off and kept muttering in his Italian voice about a 'godfather'. Then Snape arrived in his usual black robes and Blaise went to spray him in the face, but then realized that the robe was actually a black leather trench coat and that Sev was also wearing black baggy pants, a black t-shirt and large black boots. He had a few chains on as well as black spiky bracelets, and he merely glared at Blaise and slumped in a chair, his black hair falling into his face. Snape won the award, and nearly made Dragon cry, but Zak, who was in miniature Quidditch robes, thought it was 'cool'. Draco later learned that Hermione had forced his godfather into the costume and he secretly congratulated her.

They played a few games, including a round of Quidditch which was fun in the costumes. Penny was dressed as a tomboy and so had no trouble getting on her broom, and Draco was secretly wondering how Ginny was going to fly in that dress without flashing them all, not that he would have minded. It seems her brothers had the same idea because they were eyeing her suspiciously, but Ginny laughed and pulled up the skirt of her dress to reveal a pair of blue shorts.

To make things even more interesting, they switched positions as well so that Fred and George were Seekers, Ginny and Penny were Beaters, Draco and Harry were Keepers and the rest were Chasers. Draco discovered that he was a horrible Keeper, but that Harry was as bad as he was. It was even worse for Fred and George because as soon as one of them spotted the Snitch, the other would spot it as well. Draco wondered if it had to do with identical twin sibling telepathy.

The game finally ended when Harry's team all flew to George and held him back so that Fred caught the Snitch, and while Draco's team protested that it was cheating, they were also glad that the game ended as it was getting dark and it was hard to see anything.

As the rest of the group piled inside the house for a up of tea, Draco stayed outside to watch the last bit of the sunset. He sat on the steps of the porch, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees. A soft voice interrupted the solitude.

"Can I join you?"

Draco turned to see Ginny with two mugs in her hand.

"I brought coffee," she said.

"Well, in that case, I suppose so," said Draco, teasingly. She smiled and joined him on the steps, handing him the mug of coffee. They stared out at the darkening sky in silence for a while before Draco spoke.

"You've been avoiding me," he said quietly.

"I've been thinking," said Ginny, just as softly.

"About what?" asked Draco.

"You, mostly," said Ginny, "and also about me. I've come to a decision."

"Oh?" asked Draco. "And what did you decide?"

"The only reason you won't date me, is because you are afraid of hurting me," said Ginny. "And the only reason I'm not dating you is because I'm afraid of hurting you."

"Wha-?" began Draco, but Ginny held up a hand.

"Let me finish," she said. "I was afraid that because you seem so accepting about the fact that you're, that you're dying, that being with me might make it worse, if you really did care about me that is. I need to know if that's true."

"If you being with me would make it hard to die?" asked Draco.

"Yes," Ginny whispered.

Draco swallowed and stared out at the evening sky. "No," he said lowly. "The only thing that would hurt is if you left."

"Then you need to know," said Ginny, "that, yes, when you die, I'm going to get hurt, but it would be worse if I never told you how I feel."

"Ginny, stop," said Draco hoarsely. "Don't."

"What are you afraid of?" asked Ginny.

"I don't want to hurt you," said Draco.

"I already told you," said Ginny, "that it wasn't going to hurt me. So what are you afraid of Draco? Tell me."

He was silent for a while and then he turned to her. "What if it's just the curse?" he asked. "It's the Seven Year Curse where I'm supposed to get my heart's desire. What if this whole thing was a fluke? What if the only reason my crazy scheme to fix the economy worked was because of the curse? What if that's the only reason you're sitting here, telling me that you care?"

"Load of bull," said Ginny. "If that was the case the economy would have been fixed just like that." She snapped her fingers. "And as I recall, you nearly killed the economy before it got better. And I did not fall in love with some curse, I fell in love wi-,"

It was his turn to stop her. "Gin, don't. You're making a mistake," he said.

"So, now you're trying to tell me what to do?" Ginny asked, an angry note in her voice. "You dare to tell me who I am in love with?"

"Ginny, it's not that," said Draco. "I-I'm fine with us just being friends. It's easier knowing that you don't care for me like that, knowing that it wasn't the curse that kept us apart. I don't want to hate it, Ginny. I don't want to dread my death when I've been doing so fine just accepting it. Don't make this any harder, please." His voice was practically raw, and he got up to pace the porch.

"So you're saying that at your death bed, you want me to just hold hands with you? Or do you want me kissing you, and telling you that I love you, and that when we meet up in heaven someday, I want you there waiting for me with open arms so that we both know we'll never be apart forever?"

"Is there such thing as heaven?" Draco asked, trying desperately to sidetrack her.

"Don't change the subject. Do you want me to tell you that I love you?"

"Oh Merlin, Gin," said Draco, his voice breaking as he stopped pacing and stared at the sky until he could trust himself to speak again. "Gin, why are you doing this to me?"

"Answer the question," said Ginny, her voice hard and leaving no room for argument.

"No, I'm not answering," said Draco turning around and reaching for the door. He could hear Ginny get up behind him.

"Draco, wait," she said. He drew in a breath and turned around, only to stumble against the door as she launched herself at him. His mouth found hers without his brain commanding him to do so and he held her tight as both of them grappled with each other, desperation overcoming any passion they might have felt.

"I want you to know," said Ginny, gasping between kisses, "that if you tell me that you don't want me to love you, you'll be breaking my heart."

"No talk," Draco muttered, dipping down again to capture her lips. She tasted of raspberry tea and honey, an odd combination, but so addictive. He practically devoured her mouth, barely remembering to breathe, but then she pushed her self back, leaving him gasping this time.

"Ginny, what?" he asked, stepping forward, but she held up her hand, retreating backwards.

"Answer the question, Draco. Do you want me to tell you that I love you? Because if you say yes, I'm going to be with you every waking moment until you die, and it's not going to be easy for either of us letting go. I need to know."

Draco paused, imagining her holding his hand as he died with a sad smile on her face for every thing that wasn't to be, for everything that had never been. And then he pictured her holding his hand with tears in her eyes, but she was smiling lovingly, reassuringly telling him that it would be okay, they'd be together. It was then he knew that if he wanted to look at his death without dread or hate, he would have to walk away right now, he wanted to walk away. It was like discovering he was dying all over again, and he didn't know if he could take it, but then he remembered what Ginny had said, "if you tell me that you don't want me to love you, you'll be breaking my heart".

He would give anything not to give her any more pain; he had already caused her to fall in love with a dying man. He looked up at her, standing in the dark with her hair ablaze in the last of the light, and he knew she was worth it.

"I love you, Ginevra," he said. "I want you to make your own decision. I won't tell you to love me; you do that if you want to. Just know that I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too, Draco Malfoy. Now kiss me."

That was all the invitation he needed. He ran forward and caught her in his arms while her own arms snaked around his neck, pulling his lips to hers.

The door opened, bathing the two of them in light from the hallway and they jumped apart.

"Well, it took you two long enough," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling at them. "Now come in and have some cake before it's all gone."

Draco looked at her in surprise. "You don't mind? Did you want me to ask permission or anything?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "I would have been disappointed if you had. It's Ginny's decision; it always has been, though, I do approve, if that's what you mean."

Draco smiled. "Thank you," he said simply.

"Now come on in," said Mrs. Weasley. They followed her in, heading into the living room where the rest of the family was gathered.

"There you two are," said Harry. "Took you long enough."

Ginny blushed and Draco suddenly felt nervous. If Harry suddenly asked them what they were doing out there, should he tell them? He and Ginny weren't really dating, were they? But Harry didn't seem to take notice of them, instead he stood up and called for everyone's attention.

"I have an announcement to make," he said. Padma stood up next to him and grabbed his hand. "Padma and I are engaged," said Harry, with the largest grin Draco had ever seen on his face. He knew right then that they were perfect for each other; Harry hadn't looked this happy ever, not even when he won the Quidditch World Cup. Cheers and hollers broke out across the room.

"We want you all to be a part of the wedding," said Padma, over the cheers. "Groomsmen and bridesmaids."

"Plans are in the making right now," said Harry, "but we would like the reception to be at Malfoy Estate, that alright with you, Draco?"

"I owe it to you, don't I?" asked Draco, smiling broadly. "I hooked you two up, didn't I?"

"Figured that's what you'd say," said Harry. "And if that didn't work, well, there's always blackmail."

"Very Slytherin," said Draco. "I'm impressed. When's the wedding?"

"Sometime in June, probably. Is that alright?"

Draco felt Ginny flinch beside him. He'd be dead then, but hey, Harry was welcome to it.

"'Course it is," he said easily. He stuck out his hand. "Congratulations Potter."

"Thanks Malfoy," said Harry, shaking his hand. "Oh, and you and Ginny will probably be dates for each other at the wedding. Is that alright?"

Draco wondered if he should just go ahead and tell Harry that he wasn't going to be making the wedding because he would be six feet under, but he figured he shouldn't ruin the happy occasion.

"Funny you should mention that," said Ginny, coming forward and slipping her hand in Draco's and giving it a squeeze. "Don't you think, Draco?"

Harry looked down at their linked hands and then at their faces. Ginny was smiling and Draco couldn't help the slight smirk on his face.

"Oh good," said Harry. "Then we don't have to set you up then."

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Payback," said Harry. "Me and Padma figured you two needed a push in the right direction. Congratulations Malfoy."

"Congratulations for what?" asked Padma, coming over.

"This," said Draco, pulling Ginny to him and kissing her soundly on the lips. The room went dead quiet, and Draco could feel Ginny smiling against his lips and he pulled back.

There was a shocked second of silence following the kiss, and then every woman in the room squealed happily. Draco figured that was the only thing keeping him from being hexed right then and there by six Weasley brothers. Sure enough, all of the women went to flock around Ginny and Padma, and Draco found himself surrounded by red-headed men.

"So, when were you going to tell us?" asked Bill, folding his arms across his chest.

"Actually, it just sort of happened right now," said Draco. "When we were outside, that is."

"And what are you're intentions for her?" asked Charlie.

"Just to make her happy," said Draco.

"Do you deserve her?" asked Percy.

"No," said Draco, and that was the truth.

"Do you usually kiss women on the first date?" asked Fred.

"No," said Draco. "We've been talking for a while now, and well…," he trailed off.

"Are you going to break her heart?" asked George.

Draco hesitated. "I'm doing everything I can to make sure that never happens."

"Do you realize that if you do, we will hunt you down and murder you in the most painful way possible with a very good chance of castration?" asked Ron.

"If I break her heart, I'd deserve it," said Draco.

"Or for heaven's sake, leave him alone," said an exasperated voice behind them. It was Ginny with her hands on her hips; she was glaring at her brothers. "No more intimidation," she said, "or I'll give you six something to be intimidated about."

She pulled Draco away from them and sat him on the couch. "Let me guess," she said. "They went through their six question routine with you."

"Yeah," said Draco. "Do you think I passed?"

She glanced over at her brothers. "I think so. I had an interesting talk with Severus."

"Oh really," said Draco, glancing at his godfather who was glaring at the six Weasley brothers with a very menacing stare.

"Yes. He said that if you ever give me a hard time, I can just call him to deal with you."

"So much for loyalty to his godson," said Draco shaking his head. "I swear, dating you is more dangerous than I thought it would be. I may die even soo-," he was cut off with Ginny kissing him.

"Let's forget about it," she said, when she finally pulled away. "Just for tonight."

He was happy to agree and when he went to bed that night, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

_He was in the field, with its brillant colors and peaceful atmosphere, and although he was still alone, he felt the greatest since of completion and contentness. A flash of red and movement caught his eye and he turned to see a beautiful butterfly flitting among the emrald green grass over the sapphire waters. The butterfly's wings were a gorgeous red-gold and he knew right then the meaning of perfection. _

--------------------------------------------------------------------

With every passing day, Draco fell more and more in love with Ginevra Weasley. They did everything together. They stayed up late working together, and ate lunch together, and took frequent trips out to Muggle London together where they could get away from the reporters and crowds.

It was more than a relationship, it was true friendship even though they didn't laugh at the same jokes, they didn't agree when it came to public policies and they voted for different people on the board of judges. They even fought frequently, which was funny as they hadn't fought as often when they were business partners, or as hard. When they fought, Draco would punch the wall and Ginny would slap him and storm out of whatever room they had been in.

The first time this had happened Ginny had gone to the Burrow where she had sobbed inconsolably on her mother's shoulder, absolutely convinced that this was the end. Unfortunately it was a Tuesday afternoon, and so her brothers came home to see her crying and were about to call on a man hunt for Draco, but Mrs. Weasley told them that if they did, they were never coming back for a family dinner again. From what Draco heard that was the worst family dinner ever. He wasn't there; he was at the estate burying himself in work.

The next morning he realized that he had done the entire budget wrong and that he couldn't concentrate without a certain red-head and guilt was poisoning every thought. So six o'clock Wednesday morning found him coatless in the rain banging on the Burrow door yelling for Ginny. The Weasley brothers had opened the door, preparing to beat the crap out of him, but had pulled up short when they had caught sight of him. His hair was plastered to his forehead and he had deep circles under his eyes. His left hand was taped because his knuckles were scraped and bloodied from where he had punched the wall and his cheek had a spectacular purple bruise on it from where Ginny had slapped him.

Before the brothers could collect themselves to go after him, Ginny shoved her way through them and jumped into his arms sobbing and saying 'I'm sorry' over and over again, and all he could do was hold her tight and repeat her mantra until Mrs. Weasley shooed them all inside for a hot breakfast. Upon discovering that the bruise was from Ginny, the brothers decided that she could take care of herself and instead of glaring at Draco whenever he was banging on the Burrow door for Ginny, they laughed and helped things calm down. They could tell that although they may be one of the more dysfunctional couples, they truly loved each other. It was, after all, blatantly obvious.

Whenever Ginny smiled, Draco smiled too, he couldn't help it. Whenever he spotted her red hair or her amber eyes, his own eyes lit up, and when she laughed, he wanted to pull her into an embrace. He bought her things as well. He would see something beautiful and it would remind him of her, and he would get it. Ginny used to joke in private that it was a good thing he was dying soon, or else she'd end up with so much stuff, it would burst the walls at the estate. Draco knew he was hopelessly in love, and that he was going to die soon, and so he stayed completely by her side, and tried to forget the curse. It was easy when he was thinking about her.

For her own part, Ginny made life brighter for him. She wouldn't go a day without making a funny face, or telling a joke to get him to laugh. When he did buy things for her, she would roll her eyes and give an exasperated sigh, but always give him a kiss and a hug and whisper 'I love you' in his ear, and for someone who had gone his whole childhood without anyone telling him that, those three little words were the best gift he could get. She was also tough, something that he needed. When he was in a bad mood and would yell, she would yell right back, often louder than he did. When he was truly a bastard, which he was whenever they got into a fight, she would let him know. In short, they were perfect for each other.

And that was why he was once again banging on the Burrow door at seven on Friday morning in the chill of early December.

"Ginny, come on. I know you're in there! I'm sorry, alright?"

The door opened and Charlie stood in the doorway smirking at him.

"'Nother fight, Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes but stepped into the house.

"No bruise this time?" asked Charlie, searching his blemish-free face.

"I got smart and ducked," said Draco. "I think that's why she's mad at me."

Charlie shook his head in mock hopelessness, but he led Draco into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley gave him a plate of eggs and toast. Charlie walked to the stairs and yelled up.

"Ginny, your boyfriend's here!"

There was a clatter of footsteps and Draco switched places with Charlie and Ginny ran into his arms.

"You're late," she said, hugging him tightly.

"I fell asleep," said Draco. It was true, usually he stayed up all night trying to work, but he had dropped off around five that morning. He had dreamed of the field and could remember the events with unnerving accuarcy.

_He was standing in the field with the red-gold butterfly hovering around his head, sometimes landing in his hair, which made him laugh, but then the butterfly had left, flying towards the river, and he had followed, splashing through the water. He had made the mistake of looking down and seeing the reflection that was not quite his reflection. 'I told you this day would come' the wind had whispered, whipping roughly around him. The sky had grown dark, and he looked up to see slate grey couds spreading over the robin's egg blue sky._

He had woken up with a start and with his heart pounding rapidly and with a desire to see Ginny.

Ginny pulled back and looked him over. "You're wearing your clothes from yesterday," she said, her nose wrinkling.

"I told you I fell asleep and woke up late, so I decided to get you first. I missed you."

"Wow, I now know you must love me if your sacrificing your wardrobe for me. Now that's true devotion," said Ginny, tilting her head up for a kiss. Draco gave it to her as she whispered, "I love you too."

"So what was it about this time?" asked Charlie, when they came in for breakfast.

"None of your business," said Draco, just as Ginny said, "Quidditch."

Charlie just shook his head. "What are you two going to do when you run out of things to argue about?"

"Live happier lives," said Draco blandly. "What are you here for?"

"Faye and the kids went to Ireland to visit their other grandmother, and I have work here to do, so I stayed, and since Mum doesn't trust me to fend for myself, she dragged me here," said Charlie. "Not that I'm complaining," he added taking a bite of eggs.

After breakfast Ginny accompanied Draco to Malfoy Estate where he ran into his bathroom to take a cold shower and change his clothes. Ginny had followed him into his room and he got a little sidetracked with her for awhile. They didn't do anything beyond kissing, the knowledge that Draco would be dying soon kept a boundary in the physical side of the relationship and Draco really didn't want to leave Ginny with a kid after his death. It wouldn't be fair to her.

He scrubbed up quickly, stopping when a sharp pain lanced through his side. He frowned and looked down at his scar, and froze. The scar was no longer a white line, but an angry red one, which could only mean one thing: It was starting.

He came out of the bathroom with his black pants and white button-up shirt on, toweling his hair off so that he could avoid Ginny's gaze. He didn't want to tell her just then, but she could read him like a book now, one of the only people that could.

"What's wrong?" she asked, getting off of his bed that she had been lounging on. Draco sighed and threw his towel on the floor, then unbuttoned the shirt and showed her the scar. Her face paled and she reached out to brush the mark with her feather-light finger tips. Draco remembered a time when she had done the same and he had flinched away, but now he leaned into the touch, desiring it.

"So it's starting then," she said.

Draco nodded and forced an unconcerned tone. "Well, it's not like we didn't know it was coming," he said.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I'm taking New Foundations and MagicTec public," he said. "Sell stock and all that. I'll still be CEO and what not, but this way when I'm gone it won't be that big of a shock."

"And AllChemists?" Ginny asked.

"Don't know yet," said Draco. "Maybe split the company and give different parts away. I think Pansy might want to take over the beauty and health part; she's getting bored with her designer company."

"What about Malfoy Enterprises?"

"I'm giving that to you," said Draco. "Think of it as a Christmas present."

"Christmas isn't for another two and a half weeks," said Ginny.

"Ah, well, Santa came early for you," said Draco. "I'll help you learn the ropes. Anyway, we should probably get into the office and break it to the media that we're going public. That'll create a stir."

"What about everyone else?" asked Ginny.

"I'll tell them when I have to," said Draco. "I'll probably tell Sev tomorrow." He frowned when he thought of his godfather. "It's a good think he has Zak, isn't it?" he asked.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him. "It'll be alright, Draco. Everything will be alright."

And he returned the embrace, burying his head in her red hair that smelled slightly of her citrus shampoo, and for that moment, he believed her.

---------------------------------------------------------

As always, Read and Review and a Happy New Year!


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would take private yoga lessons. Everyday. For the rest of my life. So that way I could do all sorts of crazy contortionist stuff, because it looks like a lot of fun.

I don't own DABDA (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance). It really is the five stages of the psychological development of terminal illness. I'm a psych major so occasionally I like incorporating stuff I learned into my stories.

**Alexandria J. Malfoy**: aww, thanks for the review, here's a new chapter and less than a week!  
**FroggHopper**: I hate clichés where once they get together everything is hunky-dory, so I made it not like that, lol  
**Flipinpenname**: actually it's devastated, but I did update rather quickly  
**Kiera14**: you're on to something there, and the next chapter is the last chapter (I think) and there will be an epilogue after that  
**CoolMilena**: I'm definitely American, New York in fact and thanks for the review, glad you liked it  
**ladyerudite**: DABDA isn't mine, it actually is the five stages, and I'm glad you liked the chapter  
**Ada Achlys**: hey, thanks for the review, and I'm glad it's not overly melodramatic and a perfect relationship is extremely unlikely for Draco and Ginny, at least in my story  
**SilverWingPhoenix**: I'll try on that miracle, and thanks for reviewing  
**SilvinArrow**: wow, thanks for the review, and here's the next chapter  
**Chaney**: hmmm, I think you're the only person who wants him to die, kinda funny that, well here's the next chapter  
**QuinkyDink**: aww, don't cry, I feel bad now….ok, so not really, but thanks for updating, I really appreciate it  
**Momentyne**: cry your purple heart out? Purple? That's pretty cool, and I'm glad you like Dragon  
**pix**: here's the next chapter and thanks for the review  
**GPGA**: you cried? Aww, I'm sorry, and at the same time I'm glad I made people cry, it was supposed to be sad, thanks for updating  
**louey31**: mmm, good idea, but it wouldn't work, sorry, but thanks for reviewing

----------------------------------------------------------------

Draco nervously made his way down to his godfather's lab in the basement of the AllChemists building. No, he wasn't nervous, Malfoy's didn't get nervous. He was… apprehensive. Draco arrived at the end of the stairs and reached for the doorknob. Scratch that, he was down right terrified. He took a breath, grasped the door handle and turned it. He pushed open the door to find his godfather filling potion jars with all sorts of cut up ingredients.

"Go right in, Draco," said Sev, looking up and nodding in the direction of his office. Draco managed a wan smile and entered the office, sitting on the end of the couch as usual and setting his briefcase by his feet. His hand started rising in the direction of his hair before he realized it, and he immediately put it back down, knotting his fingers together to stall the agitated motion.

Severus came in a few moments later, drying his recently washed hands on his robes and sitting in the armchair opposite Draco.

"So, what is so important that you skived off work to come and see me?" he asked, his black gaze on Draco's face. Draco immediately began wondering if this was such a good idea.

"I don't suppose you'll let me pass with a 'why can't I visit my favorite godfather' excuse, will you?" he asked.

"Not for a moment," said Snape.

Draco nodded. "I figured you say that. I'm here for two reasons; the first one is to return something of yours." Draco reached down to his briefcase and pulled out the thin, red leather book he had stolen from Snape's original office six years before. He held it out to his godfather. "Sorry for taking it, but it's been really useful."

Sev took the book and read the title. "_Cursed Weapons_. Do I want to know why this has been useful?"

"Probably not," said Draco. Sev gave him a look; Draco sighed, but then smiled, rather ironically. "Congratulations. Your godson is going to be the first person to die from the Seven Year Curse in over two hundred years." He supposed that wasn't the best way to break the news, but humor, no matter how crude and unfeeling, helped him deal with the situation.

Sev handled it rather well. "How long have you known?" he asked calmly.

"Since I stole the book, a couple of days after the last battle," said Draco. "It was the knife that Lucius stabbed me with."

"Of course it was," said Snape. "Only blood family can invoke the curse, only blood family can break the curse. It's one of the more ancient works of Dark Magic. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Draco shrugged. "I didn't want to be treated any differently, I didn't want any of the pitying glances or the secret whispers where ever I went. I wanted these remaining years to be normal."

Sev nodded and then got up to pace the room. Draco noted the clenched fists and the locked jaw and winced; Snape was angry.

"Sev?" he asked quietly.

"LUCIUS, YOU BASTARD!" Snape screamed, whirling around to his desk and throwing what looked to be a sneakoscope at the wall. It shattered, along with a few glass trinkets on the desk that weren't hurled. Draco jumped at the outburst, then looked at the shattered glass impressed. That was quite a powerful bit of accidental magic there.

"I'll kill him," said Snape very quietly, and very calmly. "I will kill him."

"He's already dead," Draco reminded him. "That's sort of my problem."

"Then I'll simply have to resurrect him so that I can kill him again," said Snape, very logically. "It shouldn't be too hard."

"Sev, it's alright," said Draco.

"It bloody well isn't," Severus snapped. "You're dying!"

"Well, you seem to have skipped the denial stage," said Draco, more to himself though. "Sev, even if you do kill him again, it won't be helping any."

"Of course it will," snarled Snape, not to be appeased. "Murdering Lucius will solve everything."

Draco decided that his godfather's statement right there could be a form of denial, so he was comforted in the fact that DABDA still held true for friendly and familial reactions to some one with a terminal illness. He sighed, leaned back on the couch, and waited for his godfather to settle down.

Sev sank back into his armchair. "I suppose Miss Weasley knows," he said, his smooth tone back in place.

"Yeah," said Draco. "She found at after the Quidditch World Cup." He vaguely wondered if Sev was jealous that he wasn't the first to know, but before he could clearly develop that thought train, Sev spoke again.

"She's a good girl," he said. "Never got to tell you that, but if you did have to go and fall in love with a girl from Hogwarts, I'm glad it was her. There's definitely some Slytherin in her."

Draco smiled. "Thanks Sev."

Severus leaned forward. "I'm going to find you a cure, Draco. I swear I will."

Draco shook his head. "There isn't one, Sev," he said. "I already checked, but it's alright."

"No, it's not," said Snape. "Lucius took my life from me when he convinced me to take the Dark Mark, and there is no way he's taking my godson from me as well. I won't allow it."

"No," said Draco, firmly. "I don't want you becoming obsessed with finding a cure. I've got a few months left and I want you to be with me, not down here in your lab buried under papers and potions always straining after some thread of hope when that's all it is, just some thread."

Sev looked like he was about to object, but Draco cut him off.

"I mean it, Sev," he said. "I don't want you gone, alright? I couldn't take that. You've always been telling me what to do; well, now it's my turn. Promise me you won't look for a cure, at least not when you should be with me, okay?"

Sev looked away, not answering, but then he nodded.

"Promise?" Draco asked softly.

Sev nodded again and Draco felt a weird clenching sensation in the back of his neck and his eyes were stinging slightly. He tried swallowing but his throat was closing up. Then Sev was beside him, clutching Draco to him, as if by holding him, Death would be unable to tear him away. If a Gryffindor had been embracing him, the arms would have been comforting and warm, but Sev was not a Gryffindor, and that was okay, because Draco wasn't one either.

Sev's arms were instead hard and unyielding and his grip was bruising in its strength, and that was what Draco needed. Right then, in that harsh, uncomfortable grasp, he felt truly at home, and he returned the embrace, his own arms perhaps a bit too tight, but knowing that, for these two Slytherins, it was the only way of showing just how much of a toll it would be costing them. The embrace ended far too quickly, but, in after thought, so did life and so neither of them mentioned it.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't speak of this to anyone else," said Draco. "I haven't told anyone besides you and Ginny, and I'd rather keep this private for now."

Sev nodded. "Of course," he said.

Draco gave a slight smile and then tugged on his hair. "I should probably get back to work," he said. "We're going public and all so there's quite a bit to be done."

Sev nodded again. "I was wondering why you would go public, but now I know. I should get back to work too; I've been restocking the potions cupboard so that when my partner finally comes back we can get to work again."

"When is Hermione coming back?" asked Draco, not out of real curiosity, but to keep the conversation on safe topics while he gathered his bag and walked out the door. Sev followed him out into the potions lab.

"After New Year," he said.

Draco nodded, and shifted awkwardly on his feet. "I'll see you at the Christmas and New Year's Party at the Burrow, right?" he asked.

Sev nodded. "I'll be there," he said.

"Alright," said Draco. "Well, see you there, then." He turned and left the AllChemists building, Flooing back to his office. Ginny was waiting for him, and she closed the door as soon as he got in and then shut the blinds.

"You're going to make the secretaries talk," said Draco, flopping into his swivel chair.

"They already talk," said Ginny, shrugging. "So how did it go?"

Draco spun himself around on the chair, staring at the ceiling to get himself dizzier. "Well, he smashed a few paper weights with accidental magic and then he gave me a hug." He stopped spinning to look at Ginny. "I feel like one of the worst people ever. I made my godfather upset to the point where he gave me a hug. Snape, of all people, giving hugs! It's not supposed to be like that."

"Well, it's better than crying, right?" asked Ginny.

Draco thought for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah, I suppose so," he said. "I still feel like crap though."

"Let's go home," said Ginny. "You look like crap too."

"Glad for the vote of confidence," said Draco, dryly. She smiled up at him.

"It's why I'm here," she said, and Draco smiled as well.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next two weeks, Draco watched his companies go public with a little twinge of regret. He had started those companies out of nothing. He had built them up and given them all of his time and effort, and now they were going into the care of other people, people who didn't know them like he did.

He confided his fears to Ginny, who had laughed, and told him that if he were this emotional with his companies, she wondered what it would be like if he had children and had to send them off to school. He bristled slightly at her laughter, but didn't stop her. There hadn't been a lot to laugh about lately.

The scar on his side was no longer red, but it had turned black with surprising speed. The black was spreading too, through his veins and up his ribcage. As his skin was so pale, he had always been able to trace the blue and purple squiggly lines that covered his skin and marked where his veins and arteries were, now the blue lines that were located around his scar were coal black and the blackened veins stretched up, almost to his heart, and were also beginning to wrap around his back. It was actually rather gross.

Along with the blackening scar, the dream of the field had been plaguing Draco's sleep night after night. It would start out with everything perfect, but than that reflection and the voice would come, bringing with it a raging storm. Draco didn't know why it terrified him that much, storms had never bothered him before, but with the rain and lightning came the sensation that he was being pulled away from everything he had ever loved, and he would wake up struggling with sweat dripping off of his body.

Christmas came around rather quickly, and it was a very white Christmas as well. It snowed a good couple of inches so that the grand total accumulation made it rather hard for walking in. He spent Christmas with Blaise and Pansy at the Manor where he played the doting Uncle and gave the children way too many presents.

Ginny escaped her own family party and came over in the afternoon, arriving just in time for the snowball fight on the front lawn. After everyone was thoroughly wet, Blaise and Pansy went upstairs to change the kids' clothes, and Draco and Ginny went into the living room to dry out by the fire and stare at the Christmas tree.

"I got you a present," said Ginny, as she leaned against his side. She reached into her purse. "It's not wrapped because I had no idea what I was going to get you until a few days ago, and this took a while to be made."

She pulled out something flat and circular and handed it to him. Draco took the proffered gift and stared down at the object. It was a dream catcher, approximately the width of his hand in diameter. Pale gold and fiery red strands were stretched across a gold circular frame with jade green beads strung through the threads at random intervals while feathers and silk tassels decorated the outside edge.

"It's to catch your bad dreams," said Ginny. "You hang it above your bed at night."

"How did you know I was having bad dreams?" Draco asked.

"Blaise told me. He said that he could hear you yelling sometimes and that you were always up at odd hours of the night."

Draco pulled Ginny over for a kiss. "I suppose I should thank him," he said rather grudgingly.

"He's just worried about you," said Ginny.

Draco looked down at the dream catcher in his hands. "Are these-?"

"Strands of our hair," said Ginny. "To make it work best, the threads should be hair from the person it is intended for and from someone who loves the intended. There's strengthening charms on the hair so it won't break and I had to cast a lengthening charm on your hair to make it long enough."

"I didn't even know you took a piece of my hair," said Draco.

"I got it from your comb," said Ginny, smiling a little smugly.

Draco kissed her again. "Thank you," he said, sincerely. He then reached under the tree for a tiny gold wrapped box and handed it to her. "I love you," he whispered in her ear as she took it.

She unwrapped it eagerly, but neatly, pulling out a black velvet box and opening it.

"Oh," she breathed.

Draco smiled at her expression as she pulled out an expensive looking necklace. The chain itself was gold and made of links so small, it looked completely seamless. A teardrop pendant hung from the chain, only slightly bigger than a thumbnail. It was made of glass, and inside the glass was a dragon carved out of a single emerald and wings of yellow topaz and upon the dragon's head was a butterfly made of rubies. The detailing on the animals was so intricate that it was possible to make out the ivory dragon's teeth and onyx eyes, and the butterfly had flecks of diamonds on the wings. It was a wizarding masterpiece and upon observation, the dragon writhed within the glass and the butterfly beat its wings.

"Put it on me," said Ginny, giving him the necklace and turning while holding up her ruby-red hair. Draco did as commanded, and when he had finished he wrapped his arms around her, and she let her hair down. She leaned back, twisting so that she could give him a kiss. "I love you so very much, Draco Malfoy," she said and in response, he tightened his hold on her, never wanting to let go.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The family Christmas/ New Year Party was held from the 29th of December to the 2nd of January. The adults were not exchanging gifts, but they all came with presents for the little ones, who were all going to end up spoilt beyond all belief, especially when their 'Uncle' Draco was the richest man in the wizarding world.

They arrived late morning to unpack all of their things, put all the presents under the tree to be opened the next morning, and set up rooming arrangements. The Burrow had a few renovations done in the spring so that all of the young boys had a room, and the girls were sleeping together as well. The really little ones were sharing rooms with their parents.

Draco was originally going to be rooming with Harry and Severus, the only single males (besides Fred and George who had their own room) but Severus was unable to sleep over, or so he said (Draco figured that his anti-social godfather couldn't take that much friendly time) and so Harry decided to room with Padma, kicking Ginny out so that she ended up rooming with Draco.

"And there are two beds," said Fred, giving Draco a look as he put Ginny's bag in the room.

"So we expect you to behave yourselves," finished George, also giving Draco a look, though he was smiling as well.

Draco didn't mind Ginny's company at all. He had left the dream catcher at home, having forgotten to bring it, and as it really did banish the dream, he was hoping Ginny's presence would do the same.

They then went down for lunch where the Weasleys and Co. tried to explain to the new members of the family (mainly Draco and Padma) all of their Christmas traditions. Padma was handling the onslaught of information much better than Draco was, but then again she did have a normal family growing up so the idea of a cake with a silver piece hidden inside didn't seem quite so foreign to her.

"And then whoever gets the slice with the coin in it, is King for the day," said Charlie.

"And then we have a baking contest," said Mrs. Weasley. "Where the men and the women face off to see who can make the best cookies. The judges are the children, and no, bribery is not allowed."

"We also play a game of Monopoly New Years Eve," said Hermione.

"And we go sledding as well," said Fred. "And ice skating."

"But not at the same time," said George.

"And we have our annual snowball fight," said Fred.

"Which will be tomorrow," said George.

"Unless of course we do the Snowman Building contest tomorrow, because then we would have it today," said Fred.

"But if we do the cookies today, then we can't do either," said George.

Harry burst out laughing. "The look on your face is priceless Draco," he said. "You've never done anything like this before, have you?"

"Not exactly," said Draco, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"You'll get used to it," said Harry. "I know I did."

As it turned out, most of the activities they did were competitions between the men and the women, and the score was being kept by Mrs. Weasley and Severus. On New Years Eve the winning team would be decided and the participants of the team would receive a prize. That afternoon they had the snowball fight. A person was 'out' when snow was shoved down their back, or front, and then they had to go to the opposing team's snow fort until another member of the team tagged them. The game ended when all of one team was captured.

The children played as well and as there were more girls than boys, the female team had a slight advantage. Never-the-less, the men gradually triumphed with a spectacular frontal assault planned by Ron Weasley. It might have been slightly unfair because Ron was in charge of planning different strategies and tactics for the Aurors, but no one complained too loudly.

After the snowball fight came the snowman building contest because it was such a nice day out. The sun was shining and there was very little wind so that even though it was cold, it wasn't bitter out. Even so, Draco found himself coughing slightly and silently swore. He had better not be getting sick again.

The women won the snowman building contest, which was actually a 'build any type of snow figure you want as long as magic isn't involved'. As none of the men were really that artistic, the women won with no complaint from the men because their own lopsided snowman couldn't compete with the penguin wearing sunglasses by the women.

By then it was getting dark and time for dinner. Afterwards they played a few board games, and Ron beat Draco at chess, and then went off to bed. Draco was right, Ginny kept the nightmares away as well.

The next morning Draco awoke to a pounding on the door.

"Get up!" shouted a voice through the wood. "Get up for presents!"

Draco glanced at his watch and moaned; it was six-thirty.

"Just be glad they slept in this long," said Ginny from the bed across from him. "Last year they got up at four forty-five."

"Why do we have to get up?" asked Draco, running a hand over his face.

"They can't go downstairs until everyone's up," said Ginny, kicking off her covers and reaching for her green fleece robe. "Fred and George like to torment them by going in 'slow motion'."

Draco smiled at that and clamored out of bed as well.

"You should put a sweater on," said Ginny.

"Why?" asked Draco, looking down at his t-shirt, but then he saw why. The black spreading in his veins had finally reached his left arm and now there was black up to his elbow. He pulled off the t-shirt to see the damage. The skin directly around the scar was a dark grey and the black veins had reached the area above his heart.

"You can't hide this from them forever," said Ginny softly. "When are you going to tell them?"

"After the holidays," said Draco. "I don't want to ruin it."

"Draco-," Ginny began, but she was cut off by more pounding on the door.

"Presents!" yelled the voice again.

Draco turned to Ginny with a slight smile. "Let's not keep them waiting," he said.

Two hours later and he was downstairs on the couch in a sweatshirt with Ginny beside him as the children played with their new toys amidst a sea of wrapping paper. Zak was zooming around on the broom Draco had given him, while Hermione frowned at him.

"You just had to give him a broom, didn't you?" she asked Draco.

"But you can control the settings on it," protested Draco. "Plus, it has an anti-falling charm on it. If it senses the rider is slipping, the wards will come up to catch him."

Hermione still looked a little suspicious, but couldn't say anything because Zak looked so deliriously happy.

"Did Ron give you his present yet?" asked Ginny to Hermione.

Hermione held up her hand in response and Ginny examined the ring on her finger. "It's beautiful," she said. "But what if you have another?"

"No," said Hermione. "No more kids. Besides, three's a nice number to have on a ring."

"What is it?" asked Draco.

"A mother's ring," said Hermione. She showed it to him. "It has all of the birthstones of my kids."

"It's nice," said Draco.

"What did you give Ginny?" asked Hermione.

"This," said Ginny, pulling the necklace out from under her robe and showing Hermione. Hermione gasped and immediately called the other women over.

"Great," said Charlie to Draco. "Now they'll all expect better stuff from us next year." He said it plaintively, but he was smiling so Draco didn't take offense to it. All of the women swooned over the necklace, calling it gorgeous and romantic.

"Alright," said Faye to Draco. "How on earth did you pick that out?"

"I actually had it specially designed," said Draco, which seemed to impress the ladies.

"How did you get it so lovely though?" asked Faye.

"I simply told the jeweler what I wanted in the necklace and then told him that I knew the most beautiful girl on earth and that I wanted it to match," said Draco.

All of the women squealed and got sappy looks on their faces, but Draco got the result he was looking for. Ginny came over with blushing cheeks, perched on his knees and kissed him soundly on the lips. "Did I ever tell you that I love you?" she whispered in his ear.

After presents and breakfast the family bundled up and went sledding. Even this was a competition as the farthest sled was the winner that round for their team. The men all huddled together and gave Ron a huge push and won that competition by a good ten feet. Draco had never gone sledding as a child, a fact that left the Weasley's horrified, and Ginny immediately dragged him on a sled with her and they were off.

It was a steep slope with many bumps and they ended up over turning three quarters of the way down and landing sprawled on the hard snow. Those on the top of the hill were all laughing and calling down to see if any of them were injured, seeming rather disappointed when they yelled back up that they were fine. Ginny explained on the way up that most of the time everyone went home with a few injuries and that the more spectacular the spill and injury, the greater bragging rights the victim had.

Indeed, by the time everyone was back home, Zak, Gavin, and Michael were sporting lumps on their heads when they had flipped their sled upside down, Fred and George had scratches from where they had accidentally steered into the woods, and Harry, Ron, Blaise, and Bill had run into each other on the way down resulting in a few large bruises and headaches.

To calm things down after lunch they had the cookie bake-off. The women claimed the kitchen first before the men had the chance to 'thoroughly destroy it' as Hermione said, and the men were kicked out to play a game of Quidditch with the kids. Once the women were done and tidied up, the men were let into the kitchen.

It is never a good idea to put a bunch of amateur chefs into a kitchen all by themselves, especially when those amateurs are all men. Charlie was the only one who knew exactly what he was doing, and as it was hard to hear his commands over the food-throwing that immediately commenced, their cookies turned out a little too puffy and completely different from the recipe. They were still surprisingly edible, but the women still won and so the tie breaker would be who ever got the silver piece in their cake next evening.

That night instead of playing games, the adults merely sat in the living room while a fire was lit in the grate, talking quietly and sipping glasses of Firewhiskey that Charlie had broken out. Draco was leaning against the couch with Ginny curled up next to him as he stared at the flames listening to the soft voices around him. He looked about the room, feeling that he would give anything for things to stay just the way they were.

"Merlin, I love this," said Harry, finishing his whiskey and stretching out on the ground in front of the fire. He glanced around the room with a smile of contentment on his face. "I thought I was doomed to be with the Dursley's forever, then I found you guys."

He was obviously one of those drinkers who got nostalgic after the first glass.

"What was it like?" asked Pansy. "I know they weren't the nicest of Muggles."

"I usually got a pair of Dudley's socks for Christmas," said Harry. "And then they would go out to parties and if I was lucky, they would forget to lock the door on my cupboard so I could get out and sneak a tiny sliver of pie."

"Sounds terrible," said Pansy.

"Can't really complain," said Harry. "They were too afraid of me to do anything except lock me away or make me do chores. How about you, Draco?"

The question took Draco by surprise. "What about me?" he asked.

"How were Christmases on the other side?"

Draco drained his glass as well. "Lucius and Narcissa were usually at business parties or the like on Christmas so I got a roomful of presents to keep me occupied. 'Course when Lucius got home I also got a black eye and a split lip, but hey, anything for the newest racing broom, right?"

"That's sick," said Mrs. Weasley, anger in her eyes.

Draco shrugged. "Can't really complain," he said. "I got so much stuff, I could have sold half and fed all of China."

"No wonder you were a bratty child at school," said Hermione.

"Thank you," said Draco. "I worked hard at it."

The Gryffindors who had gone to school with him shook their heads in helplessness, but Ginny gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you," she whispered.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Draco woke up the next morning coughing.

"You alright?" asked Ginny, rolling over to look at him worriedly.

Draco coughed once more into his hand, spraying his palm with saliva, but regaining his breath. "I'm fine," he said, looking at his hand and noticing flecks of blood that stained the pale skin. He hurriedly wiped his palm on his black pajama pants and gave Ginny a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

It was apparent by lunch that he wasn't fine. The coughing had gotten worse, but he had managed to hide it from the others, though Ginny had walked in on him when he was hacking away in the kitchen. She took one look at his blood splattered hand and immediately had him sit down and gave him a glass of water, rubbing his back soothingly. As soon as he stopped coughing, she had rounded on him angrily.

"When did this start happening?" she demanded.

"This morning," said Draco.

"And when were you going to tell me?"

Draco sighed. "I didn't want to worry you. Not when we're supposed to be having fun."

"Draco, don't keep things from me, alright?"

"Alright," said Draco.

"Now how bad is it?"

"The specialists I've seen tell me that coughing up blood is normal. As the curse spreads through my body it starts attacking different organs, but as it moves on, my lungs will repair themselves. The curse will keep attacking different parts with increasing strength and speed, until my body can't deal with all of it, and dies."

"How long do you think you have?" asked Ginny.

Draco shrugged. "It's called the Seven Year Curse, because it takes on average seven years, but some people get more, some people get less. I'm thinking I'm one of those less people, maybe a few more months."

Ginny nodded, biting her lip, and Draco pulled her into a hug and they stayed huddled on the floor until the door opened and Emeric came in.

"I know," he said quietly.

Draco and Ginny stared at him.

"Know what?" Draco asked.

"That you don't have long for this world," said the young Seer calmly. "But I actually came in to tell you that they're looking for you two to go ice skating, so unless you want them to find you two on the floor, which would lead to a lot of questions, you might want to get up."

They colored and got to their feet. Emeric studied them for a moment longer and then gave them a slight smile.

"I won't tell," he said. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Draco stared as the boy left. "That's downright freaky," he said.

They spent the afternoon ice skating and then returned to the Burrow where they had dinner and then afterwards the cake. Faye found the silver piece in her cake and so the women won the three day long competition and they all received gift certificates to a wizarding spa.

After putting the younger children to bed, the Monopoly board was brought out and as there weren't enough pieces for everyone there, teams were set up by couples, and Mrs. Weasley and Sev were put on a team together as well.

It was bad planning on the others part for putting Draco and Ginny on a team together. Yes, most of the game was luck of the dice, but some of it was financial savvy and sticking the couple together who had pulled the wizarding world out of the depression, wasn't fair to the other players. Draco and Ginny were finally brought down when Faye and Charlie joined forces with Sev and Mrs. Weasley and also Harry and Padma.

The game ended close to midnight and Fleur ran to open up the front door to welcome in the New Year. They all counted down with the announcer on the radio, and when they reached "Zero!" they all pulled holiday crackers, specialty of the Weasley twins, and let loose a flock of doves, pigeons, and various other birds from the holiday wrappings. Once the flying mammals had returned to their original confetti form, they all cleaned up and went to bed.

Despite the laughter of the night before, and Ginny's comforting presence, Draco dreamed of the field again that night and he woke up to sunlight streaming through the window and Ginny shaking his shoulder.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Draco, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "I'm good."

"Bad dream?" asked Ginny.

Draco nodded and swung his feet over the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's getting worse," said Ginny quietly, looking at his arm. He did too, the black veins has reached his wrist. "When are you going to tell them?"

"When I have to," said Draco.

"And when is that?" Ginny demanded.

"Not right now," said Draco, rummaging through his suitcase to find a shirt with long sleeves.

"I don't like hiding things from them. This is a secret that shouldn't be kept," said Ginny, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged her off angrily.

"Well it's not your secret to keep!" he snapped. "It's mine and you have no right to tell me what to do with it!"

"I'm telling you that there are people out there who deserve to know what's happening to you," said Ginny, exasperation in her voice. "They care about you and you can't keep this hidden."

"Yes, I can!" Draco yelled, slamming the top on his suitcase.

"I hate to break it to you, Draco, but it's rather hard to hide this!" she poked him hard on the arm where the black veins were visible.

"Get off!" Draco snarled, jerking his arm away from her touch. "And don't touch me. I'll tell them when I bloody feel like it!"

"If you had your way you'd tell them when you were six feet under. Now I realize you don't have much experience with family, but this is something you should tell them!"

"Yes, so they can go and have a pity party for me, well I'm not interested!" Draco yelled.

"What are you afraid of?" Ginny asked. "Why won't you tell them?"

"I'm not afraid!" Draco said.

"Then why won't you tell them?"

"It's none of their damn business! And I'm starting to regret that I even told you!" Draco knew the minute the words left his mouth that he had gone to far. Ginny stared at him with tears beginning to fill her amber eyes and her hand darted forward to connect with his cheek with a loud smack. She left the room, grabbing her robe, and slamming the door behind her.

"Damn it!" Draco hissed, kicking his suitcase. He coughed, dark blood flecking his palm as he covered his mouth. He sighed and wiped it off with a tissue, then proceeded to get dressed.

He went downstairs and found Ginny at the table with the others eating breakfast and resolutely not looking at him. Draco glared, two could play this game.

To say that breakfast was uncomfortable would be an understatement. While the children did not notice the tension between Aunt Ginny and 'Uncle' Draco, the adults were all too aware of it and kept casting 'discreet' glances at the two and dropped 'subtle' hints as to their silence. While Draco hated that Ginny was mad at him, he was sick of being the one to chase after her and apologize. As far as he was concerned, she could say sorry first, hang the fact that he was the one in the wrong.

The battle of silence continued all throughout the morning and into lunch, where Draco had to excuse himself when he started coughing. He made his way into the empty kitchen with a tissue pressed to his mouth, knowing that Ginny was right; he would have to tell them soon because he was having trouble hiding the cough that was only worsening.

For a moment there in the kitchen Draco was afraid that he really had coughed up the lining of his throat. He was racked so badly with the coughs that his body bent double, he couldn't breathe and for a second all he could do was gag as blood and a greasy black substance drooled from his lips.

"Oh Merlin!" exclaimed Ginny's voice. She ran to his side, helping him to sit on the kitchen floor. "This is becoming a habit with you, Draco," she said, referring to the two of them once again leaning on the cupboards under the sinks.

"Mmm," was all Draco managed, crumpling the tissue that was beginning to soak through with red and black.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Ginny whispered, and as soon as Draco heard the words he had been wanting to hear from her, he felt incredibly guilty.

"No, it wasn't your fault," he said. "You were right, I should tell them, I just…telling them makes it all more real, and then I'm going to have to put up with everyone coddling me, and putting me in bed or in a chair to rest when I don't want that. I want to play Quidditch and get in a snowball fight, and I can't deal with their pity. I feel bad enough for my self as it is, and I don't know if I can take their condolences on top of it."

"I'll help you then," said Ginny, taking his hand. Draco smiled down at her.

"That's why I love you," he said, leaning down for a kiss.

"Eww, no," said Ginny. "You've just been hacking up blood and some nasty black stuff. Rinse your mouth out."

When Draco and Ginny left the kitchen laughing together, all of the adults at the table visibly relaxed and the rest of the day was spent outside playing a game that involved a large circle in the snow made of footprints and an 'X' through it. They had another snowball fight which turned into a pure wrestling match with the guys, and when the sky grew dark, they all headed in for dinner.

All throughout the meal Ginny kept giving him meaningful looks and sharp kicks under the table, to which Draco responded in a hiss, "Not with the children listening."

The children were put to bed after a few more games and then the adults once again retired to the den where they sat around the fire. Now that the time had come, Draco felt unexplainably nervous, which he found more annoying that anything else because he was going to die in a few months and here he was getting nervous. He frowned and decided to just get it over with. He took a deep breath, and Ginny beside him on the couch gave his hand a squeeze.

"Umm, could I have your attention for a moment?" he asked, cutting into several conversations, but not really caring. Everyone one in the room turned to him, and Severus spared him a rare, small smile for encouragement.

"Thanks," said Draco. "I really don't know how to say this, but it needs to be said." He tugged on his hair, then put his hand down hastily. "I'm dying," he said bluntly. "I have a few more months to live, maybe not even that."

They stared at him, not knowing if to smile at this joke, or to call the doctor to see what was wrong. He gripped Ginny's hand tighter and plunged on.

"I should have told you sooner, and for that, I'm sorry. I've been dying ever since the last battle when Lucius stabbed me with a cursed knife."

Blaise started upright in the armchair he had been lounging in. "No," he said, shaking his head. "You told me that the curse had worn off, you told me you were fine."

"I thought I was," said Draco. "And then I found out otherwise."

"No!" said Blaise, empathetically, still shaking his head. "You're joking. This is some sick joke. Well, it's not funny, Drake, so stop it!"

"I'm not joking Blaise," said Draco. "I wish to Merlin I was, but I'm not. The curse that was on the knife was the Seven Year Curse. My years are up."

Harry swore, climbing to his feet and turning away from Draco, staring out the back window and rubbing the back of his neck. Bill and Charlie both looked down, their wives clutching onto their arms. Fred and George did the exact opposite, turning their gaze to the ceiling and Percy put his arm around his wife. Ron looked pale, rubbing Hermione's shoulders as her hand covered her mouth. Blaise on the other hand glared at Draco, then jumped to his feet and strode out of the room, while Pansy called after him.

"Isn't there anything that can help?" asked Mrs. Weasley, her hands twisting together in her lap. Draco shook his head.

"No. Only blood family can wield the curse, only blood family can break it," said Draco. "I've been to specialists and what not, but they all say the same thing, 'I'm sorry, but there's nothing to be done'."

"You've known all this time?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," said Draco. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you all sooner, but I wanted things to be normal, as normal as possible, until it couldn't stay secret."

"Is it that bad?" asked Harry, facing Draco again. Draco pulled up his left sleeve to show them the black veins covering his entire arm. "Shit," Harry said with a hitch in his voice and whirling around again to face the window. Padma stood up and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm going to be honest with you," said Draco. "It is getting bad. I've been coughing up blood as well."

There were several muttered swear words, Faye was blinking rapidly, and all of them had the same expressions of shock, horror, and sorrow on their faces.

"Look," said Draco, his voice rough for some strange reason. "I don't want you to be sorry for me, alright? This last year has been my best year ever, and I wouldn't trade it in for the world."

"And you really can offer that for a trade, can't you?" asked Harry, choking out some of the words, but trying to smile.

Draco felt his own lips give a slight twitch. "Yeah," he said. "Or at least pretty close to it, but the point is that, that, damn it. I really should save all this sentimental crap for you Gryffindors."

More laughter, though some of it was forced.

"We love you too, Malfoy," said Fred, getting to the gist of his faltering words.

"And it was good knowing you," said George.

"Group hug?" suggested Fred.

"He's a Malfoy," said George. "They don't do hugs."

"I suppose I could make an exception," said Draco. "I'm mean, I'm dying right? So there's no reputation to really worry about."

Fred and George tackled him. As he was on the couch, all he did was get pushed back into the cushions, and he laughed as the twins nearly smushed him. Harry was there next, holding out his hand and pulling him into a manly embrace with plenty of back thumping. That actually seemed to be the Weasley way of hugs, though Mrs. Weasley and the women all held him tightly. Pansy was last, whispering, "Go talk to Blaise, won't you?" as she pulled away. Draco nodded, and left to go after his best friend.

Blaise was on the porch, gripping the rail so tightly his whole body was tense as he stared out at the sky.

"Hey Blaise," said Draco, coming up beside him.

"Don't talk to me you son of a bitch," Blaise snarled.

"Yes, I realize that my mother did have some bitchy qualities, but it's bad to speak of the dead," said Draco.

"You bastard!" Blaise screamed, whirling towards him and smashing his fist into Draco's jaw. "You told me that you were fine, that you were fine, Draco. Fine in my book is not getting cursed by some bloody dagger your damn father stabs you with!"

"Blaise, I'm sorry," said Draco, reaching up to touch the bruise already forming.

"You had better be!" Blaise yelled. "I'm you're bloody best friend and you didn't tell me? Does our friendship mean that little to you that you would lie about your health when you're bloody dying?" Blaise's voice was raw, meaning that he was near tears. "I'm sorry if it never meant that much to you, but you're like a brother to me, Draco. Merlin, you're my best friend!"

"Blaise, it was never that," said Draco. "I was scared, alright? So I ran, and when I did get to see you, you seemed so happy I didn't want to tell you and ruin it all. You are a brother to me as well, and if I didn't tell you, it wasn't because you _weren't _my friend, but it was because you _were _my friend that I didn't tell you. I really am sorry, though."

"What do you have to be sorry for?' asked Blaise wearily. "It's not like you went and stabbed yourself." He sighed, and looked back out at the stars.

"Hey Blaise, I don't know if I ever said this to you, but when we were at school and you would listen to me whenever I didn't know what to do, or when I was having a hard time with Lucius, well, it meant a lot to me, it still does. I guess I just want to say thanks, for being nice when I was so sodding difficult and bratty."

Blaise let out a bark that was half laugh, half sob. "You sound like a bloody Gryffindor," he said.

"Sorry about that too," said Draco, but then Blaise pulled him into a hug, a Slytherin hug that was one part comfort, one part pain, just like life and love.

"Next time someone throws a cursed dagger at you, how about you move out of the way, okay?" Blaise asked, voice cracking.

"I'll remember that," said Draco, as Blaise pulled back and he followed his best friend back to the living room. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were sitting in a circle in the middle of the floor, Hermione was writing something on a piece of parchment. The rest of the family was crowded around them as well, though Ginny came up to give him a hug.

"What's this?" asked Draco, looking at the group.

"Well," said Harry. "You know how you say that it's only luck I survived Voldemort?"

"Yeah?" asked Draco slowly.

"Well, if I can survive a killing curse, we're hoping that my luck can help you survive your family curse. We're going to find a way to beat this."

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Ginny cut him off.

"Its how they show they care," she said, giving him a short kiss on the lips and then smiling. "And who knows, maybe they'll find a cure."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

so I shall leave you with that piece of hope, and as for the christmas traditions and new years and what not, I just took as many traditions I knew of, even though they might be a little warped and threw them together, sorry if it offends anyone

well, read and review, one more chapter I think, and maybe an epilogue


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would go swimming in the ocean. Everyday. For the rest of my life. Because I would live in Tahiti.

Hey, I'm sorry this took so long, but it took a while to tie up all the loose ends. This is the last chapter but there will be a short epilogue in a few days. Thanks to:

**louey31**: I'm sorry you cried, actually, I'm a little proud of myself for making you cry, but thanks for reviewing anyway  
**Chaney**: I'm sorry.  
**GoldenFawkes**: It would be cruel to let him die, wouldn't it? Find out what happens.  
**Guineviere**: 'waiting patiently'? I probably tried your patience, it took a while to get this written  
**ladyerudite**: Thanks for the review, and now you get to see what happens with Draco!  
**Flipinpenname**: I think I would cry too, if Draco died, the question is…did I cry while writing this?  
**kiera14**: I like your reviews because it has important elements (like maybe Draco having a baby with Ginny to save him) that I need to mention, thanks  
**QuinkyDink**: same as above, I actually addressed the Tonks question in the chapter because it was such a good idea  
**Jill**: It would be cruel to kill Draco after this story's been so happy, but the only way to find out if it is all warm and fuzzy is to read the chapter (and maybe review, lol)  
**GPGA**: I can't complain about the reviews, because all of my reviewers send me lovely reviews that make me happy inside-yours included, thanks for reviewing  
**CoolMilena**: I love psych, it is amazing, and as for another story, I have an idea, I'll put something after the epilogue about my future story  
**Alexandria J. Malfoy**: I think you are my oldest reviewer, and I always look forward to seeing your responses, thanks for always leaving a review  
**pix**: I'm glad that you have hope  
**mask**: love you babe! with the 'flame' you sent, Mrs. Weasley baked a cake and then Mrs Weasley ate the cake  
**Angelique Collins**: you also mentioned the Tonks thing which made me have to explore that possibility, great job  
**Sarah**: I'm sorry it took so long, it's terrible having writers block at the end of a story  
**Silfion**: I love Draco and Blaise like brothers as well, it's such a nice relationship, thanks for reviewing  
**icicle7**: you would think that they would be able to find a cure, now you get to find out if they really did find one  
**Sara**: thanks for the review, it really was well-rounded, and I read over my story a few days ago to cure my writers block, and I cringed at all the spelling errors  
**Wizzabee**: good guess, I actually had to include a bit about the baby idea because it was such a good idea  
**cam misery**: wow, thank you very much for the review, my ego is definitely up a few notches  
**Darktail**: cool, I like being added on peoples alert list, thank you  
**padfootedmoony**: thanks for the review, and here's the next chapter!  
Special thanks to **Ada Achlys** for helping me figure out the incantation thing and for helping beta my ending so that I wasn't forced to end the story with an alien invasion, thanks a lot!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The museum wing on the Ministry was finished ahead of schedule, and the opening ceremony, which included free tours for all who showed up and a load of visiting dignitaries, was held on January 14. Draco was there of course; in fact he opened the ceremony to the thunderous applause of all present, which included every news team for the England area and also several foreign news reporters.

The museum wing was a huge success, and a perfect ending to Draco's business career. During the party he began to feel a little light headed, but he shrugged it off as a headache and continued greeting the guests. Henri came up to clasp his hand and shake it vigorously.

"My dear Draco," he said, smiling widely. "You should be very proud of yourself. This is a lovely building."

"Thank you, Minister," said Draco.

"But you do not look so lovely. You are not ill, are you?"

Draco hid a wince; he knew he looked terrible. He had lost weight, enough so that his clothes had to be refit so that they did not hang loose, his skin was even paler, and he had deep circles under his eyes that he had tried to hide with a concealment charm, but even the charm couldn't completely hide the black rings. Even his hair looked ill, losing what little pigment he had in it so that it was nearly white and lying limply over his forehead.

"It's nothing Henri," he lied easily. "I'm just a little tired. I've had a few late nights trying to pull this shindig together and all of that."

"Ahh, planning parties just not your forte, eh?"

Draco gave a wan smile; he suddenly felt exhausted and the room spun slightly. "Something like that, Minister."

"Is Ginevra around here?" asked Henri. "I had been hoping to catch up with her as well."

"Last I saw she was with Minister Lupin by the punch bowl if you care to join her," said Draco.

"I believe I shall," said Henri. "If you would excuse me?"

"Of course," said Draco, shaking his hand one more time and letting the Minister slide by. In truth he was glad for the moments rest from smiling and pretending that he was fine. The black veins had reached his fingers on his left hand, hid by gloves, and had begun to trail up his neck, covered by a collar buttoned up all the way.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to draw in any strength he may have left and came up empty. He began to search the room for Ginny as well; he needed to go home.

"Mr. Malfoy!" called an excited voice. "Can I have a few words?"

Draco found himself face to face with a reporter and he searched desperately in his head for the name he knew that he knew but couldn't latch onto.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, still trying to spot a flash of red among the guests.

"It will just take a minute," said the reporter, motioning for his camera man to start recording. The harsh camera light hit him in the face. Normally, Draco wouldn't have been fazed, and maybe even flashed a charming smile, but the light hit him dead on and pain flared in his already throbbing temples. He could feel the blood just drop from his face in a sudden rush, and the reporter noticed the sudden pallor.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Fine," said Draco shortly. "Now if you don't mind…," he tried to step past the reporter, but his way was blocked by a camera.

He blinked. The reporter was saying something, waiting for an answer expectantly, but for the life of him, he had no idea what was said.

"Mr. Malfoy?" asked the reporter.

He caught sight of a black tussled head and bright green eyes across the room. "Excuse me," he said, his tongue heavy in his mouth so the words seemed somewhat garbled.

Harry's emerald gaze caught his grey one and he most have noted the distress because he excuse himself from the couple he was talking to and made his way towards him. Draco exhaled a small sigh of relief and relaxed slightly, relieved to know that someone would see him out of here, but relaxing turned out to be a mistake. He didn't realize that he was standing through sheer will alone and loosening his guard meant that the black he had been fighting off since the beginning of this little party hit him full force. He didn't even have time to try and fight off unconsciousness. He swayed alarmingly, caught sight of Harry lunging to catch him, and then there was nothing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the quiet that woke him, a peaceful quiet. He stretched and opened his eyes, noting the familiar surroundings of his bedroom, but there were some differences. The heavy drapes were open and late morning sunshine lit the room up brighter than the ornate lamps on the walls. He frowned and turned his head so he could read the clock on his bedside table. It was almost eleven. He swore and sat up, noting that his chest was bare and he was only in a pair of loose green cotton sleep pants. The moment his eyes rested on his black lined chest he remembered the last night and groaned.

He slid out of bed and glanced out of the window. His room looked over the front of the house, well, mansion, and he could see the snow-covered lawns and the curving drive that led from the front entrance to the black gates that stopped trespassers. He could just make out the forms of reporters and camera men that were camped outside the Malfoy property. He glared and stalked into his bathroom.

Twenty minutes later and he was freshly showered and clothed in khakis and a black t-shirt and heading downstairs for something to eat, his socks in his hand. He pushed open the dining room door to find Blaise, Pansy, and Ginny eating a late brunch.

"He's awake," said Blaise, giving him a smile, though his eyes were shadowed and worried. "How are you feeling?"

"Decent," said Draco. "I passed out at the party, didn't I?" He sat next to Ginny, gave her a kiss, and then put on his socks. Ginny filled a plate for him and put it down in front of him.

"I want you to eat all of that," she said, "and yes, you did pass out at the party, right in front of a news camera too. You're going to come up with some excuse, you know, for the news."

"I actually thought Shey might give a statement," said Draco. "Announce my retirement from the business field and also my impending death."

Blaise flinched, like he used to at the name of Voldemort and Pansy gripped her fork a little tighter. Draco forgot that they had just two weeks to get used to the news while Ginny, who didn't react at all at the reference, was now able to make some jokes about it.

"You sure?" asked Ginny.

Draco held up his hands. The black veins covered both of his arms, stopping at the wrist of his right hand, but his left was completely covered, even the fingers.

"It's getting a bit uncomfortable," he said.

Concern sparked in Ginny's eyes. "It hurts?" she asked quietly.

"Tingles slightly," said Draco.

"How long?"

"Just started when I woke up," said Draco.

"Just the hand or your whole arm?" asked Ginny.

"All of it," said Draco, gesturing to his chest as well.

"Close then," said Ginny.

Draco nodded.

"Well," said Ginny. "We had better write up a statement then."

Her tone was nonchalant, but it sounded forced. Draco studied the food in front of him, but then pushed it away. His stomach was clenching and it didn't have anything to do with the curse.

-----------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon Draco watched the live news broadcast with Ginny by his side. He had called in Bernard Shey and explained the situation to him. Shey had stared at him, gone a little pale, and Draco had pressed a shot of firewhiskey into his hand. After recovering speedily from the news Shey had helped draw up his will, which was updated recently so there were only a few changes, and then he had helped write the news statement.

He had insisted that Draco maintain control of the businesses until his death though.

"It would be easier if I just pulled out," Draco told him.

Bernard shook his head. "No," he said. "If you get better-,"

"I'm not going to get better!" said Draco, thoroughly exasperated.

"I will keep hoping until you are six feet under, Draco," said Bernard. "You're too good to die."

Draco had bristled at being called good, but Ginny had taken his hand and shook her head.

"Let it go, Draco," she said. "And I think that you maintaining control until your death is a good idea otherwise you would have literally nothing to do, and you know how restless that makes you."

"It's not like I can do anything now," said Draco, in a rare burst of self-pity, gesturing to his blackened veins, but he took a breath and let it out slowly. "Alright, Bernard," he said. "Whatever you think best."

Right now he and Ginny were lounging on the couch in his study watching Bernard speak in front of the cameras.

"I am speaking for Draco Malfoy as his legal representative," said Bernard in his deep voice. "As of a few minutes ago, Mr. Malfoy has announced his retirement from the business field."

There was an outbreak of questions and exclamations but Shey raised his hands and continued.

"Mr. Malfoy will still maintain control of his companies, but he cedes authority to Ms. Ginevra Weasley until the time of his death where his companies and assets will be divided according to his will. Are there any questions at this time?"

Of course there were. Shey called on some reporter who asked the question on everyone's lips.

"What do you mean by the time of his death?"

Shey stared straight at the cameras. "Mr. Malfoy is dying from a wound he received from his father, Mr. Lucius Malfoy, during the final battle. He has between one and two months left to live and everything possible is being done to ensure that he does not pass on. As of this moment, the prognosis does not look good, but we have not yet lost hope. I thank you for your time. Good day."

And Shey Apparated back to his law firm leaving reporters to sum up the news for the viewers. Draco turned the news off and turned to Ginny.

"Well, then," he said.

Ginny wordlessly scooted closer to him and he pulled her into an embrace, neither of them speaking but comforted none-the-less.

------------------------------------------------

The next day brought a horde of mail, even more so when he was sick after the earthquake. Children drew him pictures of their new house and told him 'thank you', his employees sent get well cards, and all of the ministry officials he knew sent deepest sympathy letters. Hermione Flooed over with her children around noon, telling Draco it was an emergency. She stepped out of the front entrance fireplace with Melody, Zak and Vicki-D in her arms. It was immediately apparent what the emergency was.

Zak ran to Draco and clung to his leg crying with huge tears pouring out of his eyes. Draco was astounded; he had never seen the boy without his maniacal grin on his face.

"I don't want you to go 'way to the happy place!" he sobbed, leaving Draco to gaze at Hermione in confusion. Melody was also crying, though burying her face in her mother's robe.

"He saw the news report this morning," said Hermione. "My fault, I turned it on without thinking, and then we had to tell him what dying meant. We told him that it meant you were going away to heaven for along time but that you would still love him, but he became really distraught, and, well, like he is now. We thought maybe you could talk to him."

Draco looked down at the boy in askance, but picked him up. Zak threw his tiny arms around Draco's neck and sobbed even harder. Hermione and Ginny left, with Ginny taking Vicki-D so that Hermione could hold Melody, leaving Draco alone with Zak in the entrance. Draco walked over the wide marble stairs and sat down, rubbing Zak's back and trying to sooth him.

"Hey, kiddo," he said. "It's alright."

"Don' want you to go," Zak hiccupped, the cries slowing gradually.

"I know," said Draco. "I don't want to go either; I'm going to miss teaching you how to play Quidditch and all, but it won't be for forever."

"But it's still a long time," said Zak.

"Yes," said Draco, "yes, it is." He searched about trying to find something comforting to say. What were people in this sort of situation supposed to say? No doubt something like 'I'll always be with you' and 'I'll be watching you from a better place', but he doubted they would work for a three year old, not to mention completely cliché.

"It'll hurt for awhile," he said, "and you may feel sad, but the feeling will fade, and you'll be able to tell all of your friends about your big brother who was the best big brother in the world and how he took you flying even though your mom used to get mad at me when I went too fast and that he wants you to be happy even after he's gone."

Zak sniffed, and Draco didn't know how much he had understood, but he had stopped crying, so that must mean he did a good job. He picked the kid back up and went to find Ginny and Hermione. The two women were in the library, Hermione looking through a few books and Melody obviously helping her. Draco smirked at that; looks like Hogwarts was going to get another bookworm.

"Thanks," said Hermione, looking up and smiling at her son who was no longer sobbing. "Do you mind if I take some of these books home, Draco?" she asked. "I'm doing some research on your condition and I think these might help."

"Sure," said Draco. "In fact, I'll let Rolly know that you have permission to access the libraries anytime."

"Libraries?" asked Hermione, her eyes lighting up. "As in plural?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah," he said, then became serious. "Hermione, you don't have to keep searching. There's no cure and you, all of you, won't be failing me if you can't find anything."

Hermione nodded, but didn't look swayed. "We're going to keep looking," she said, "until your body is rotting away six feet underground, and nothing you can say will stop us. We care about you, Draco, and you're going to have to let us do this."

--------------------------------------------

Draco spent the next week in an easy pattern. He woke up in the morning and had breakfast with Ginny and then they retired to his study where they went over business plans until lunch which they had with Blaise, Pansy, and their kids. Then Ginny would go into work and Draco would spend time with Blaise and Pansy and whoever else came over during the afternoon.

The wards were now set so that any member of the family could come over at anytime and visit and there was never a day when Draco didn't have any visitors. It made him wonder if the family had planned it that way.

Sometimes Ron skipped work and came over to play a game of chess, bringing the children and Hermione with him, though Hermione usually retired to the library. Harry came rather often as Quidditch practice wasn't too time demanding yet, and Padma accompanied him. Sev came nearly every day, content just to watch his godson play chess with Ron or talk with Blaise, or Pansy or Harry. Mrs. Weasley also came often, usually bringing with her some home-cooked meal or dessert, trying to get him to eat.

Even with all of the visiting and cheerful faces, Draco slipped into a slight depression. His sarcastic, cutting side was revealed once again and he and Ginny fought more than ever, though she would never walk out any more, settling for resolving the issue right then and not wasting anymore time on running. He was bored without the constant work of his companies and his sessions with Ginny just weren't the same as really being in charge. The inactivity annoyed him and he grew irritable, restless, and he knew that he was bad company and wished that people would just stop visiting him, but they didn't, and Draco knew that it was just because he was dying that no one would tell him to shut up. He hated it; he hated that they would put up with him out of pity.

Ginny was the one to stop it. After he had made a completely rude and biting comment to Harry about his dead parents (Harry merely looked away), Ginny got up, marched over to where he was lounging indolently on the couch, and slapped him. No, not slapped, _punched_.

"What the hell was that for?" Draco yelled, eyes blazing with fury as he surged to his feet, his hands flying to his nose that was spurting blood.

"It was because Harry has too many manners to do it himself," said Ginny. "Yes, Draco, you are dying, but that does not give you the right to act however you please. I really thought that you were more mature than this, no, you are more mature than this. You know what, I'm leaving. I'll be at work and when I come home I want to see the Draco Malfoy that I fell in love with, not this spoiled, arrogant child!"

With that, Ginny stormed out of the room. Draco stared after her in shock and then slumped back onto the couch, his nose still dribbling blood. There was an uncomfortable silence, at least uncomfortable for Harry, Padma and Sev who were all in the room as well, though Sev was smirking slightly. Draco was too busy thinking, reviewing his behavior and deciding that he had been acting rather child-like.

He looked up at Harry. "I'm sorry," he said, swiping the blood away with the back of his hand with the back of his hand. "That was absolutely uncalled for and wrong of me to say and I apologize."

Harry stared at him, then threw back his head and laughed. "She's really got you whipped, hasn't she?" he asked, and Draco glared.

That evening, Ginny came back to the Estate to find a trail of rose petals leading her into the private dining room, which was covered in flowers and lit by hundreds of candles. Draco was there, with a sheepish smile, to take her coat and brief case and to sit her in a chair. Then he apologized on bended knee and presented her with a pair of gold and emerald earrings as an 'I've been a jerk' present. She smiled with tears in her eyes, forgave him with a kiss, and they had a thoroughly romantic evening.

The next day, Harry and Padma approached him with a solution for his boredom.

"We want to get married," said Harry, squeezing Padma's hand.

"Yes," said Draco. "You've told me. That's why she has a ring on her finger."

"No," said Harry. "We want you to be there; it's only fair that you get to see us get married after throwing us together. We want to get married Sunday. This Sunday."

Draco stared. "That's in five days," he said.

"Which is why we need your help," said Harry. "We want you to help plan it. You are used these big party things and know how they work."

Draco nodded, already in thought. "How big do you want it?" he asked.

"Big," said Padma.

"Not necessarily big in guest big," clarified Harry, "but fancy, extravagant. Money's not a problem."

Draco didn't think it would be since Harry was paid extremely well as Seeker and so he nodded again. "Alright," he said. "Who are you going to invite?"

Over the next five days, Draco found himself as busy as he was after the earthquake and he loved every minute of it. He called in favors from fashion designers to get all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen fitted and spent nearly a full day with Padma and Mrs. Weasley picking out dress patterns and then Pansy cornered him to discuss decorations and what not for the ceremony and also for the reception afterwards. It was a little difficult because Padma kept changing her mind on wedding colors.

It seemed the whole family had their own opinions on what to do and when, and trying to get them all in to be fitted for their dress robes was murder. Draco knew that on top of worrying about the wedding, everyone was also keeping a sharp eye on him as well, but they needn't have worried. Draco was so much improved, it shocked even himself. His skin regained some of its color, not that he had much to begin with, and his hair was once again white-blond as opposed to just white. He even gained a few, badly needed pounds. He felt energetic again, and his smirk was once again playing at his lips. He even managed to forget about his death one night when he was finalizing plans for a small string ensemble for music, at least until Hermione dragged him into the library to explain something.

"I found this in one of the older books on curses," she said. "I had to translate it and all, but basically it says that the curse was once an actual spell."

"Right," said Draco, who had heard this already from the specialists. "Purebloods usually used the curse on sons who had fallen in love with Muggle women or if they had dealings with Muggle-borns. However in spell form the curse was too easily reversed, so they put it in swords or daggers."

"Or in potions," said Hermione, "but an antidote was found."

"It wouldn't work on me," said Draco, shaking his head. "Potions and cursed weapons are two different things."

"I know," said Hermione, "but look what I found. I think it's the original incantation used to put the curse in the weapon. This book is an account of Salazar Slytherin and apparently he was the one to first put the curse in weapons and the like. The reason that no one ever dies from the curse any more is because the incantation was lost and the only way it was passed on is through heirlooms. Here, read it."

Hermione handed him the old book and Draco peered at the passage and then read it out loud.

"The Betrayal of Faith met with the Betrayal of Blood,  
The Silver of Steel holds the Curse of Seven Years  
The Sentence is Bound with unbreakable chains  
For when Blood seeks out Blood,  
And when Love casts Death  
No Power can stay the Sword  
So the Judgment of Kin holds True 'lest Forgiveness is passed."

"You have cousins still alive, like Tonks. Would that work?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Draco, shaking his head.

"Why not?" asked Hermione.

"This is based on Ancient Blood Magic," said Draco. "The rule for blood magic is that the connection must be strong. This curse was made in the times when the wizarding race was predominantly pureblooded and blood lines were being crossed all over the place and most families were at war with each other. Because there weren't many wizards or witches to get married too, many times bitter enemies were aunts or uncles or cousins to each other. That meant that the enemy would be able to undo any wards or safety spells that were blood based. So the wards and curses dealing with blood magic became very specific in what blood would work them."

"What if you had a child?" asked Hermione.

Draco gave a snort of laughter. "Little late for that," he said, "but even then, no. This says 'kin' which in ancient wizarding times meant immediate family. This curse in particular needs very specific blood. This way, my Aunt Bella could stab me with the dagger, but the curse wouldn't work because I'm not closely enough related to her, but it also means that she couldn't stop it. Of course, she's dead, so it wouldn't matter if she could. I would need to be forgiven by my father, or my mother."

"Oh,' said Hermione. "That specific? Really?"

"If it wasn't," said Draco, "then an aunt who was on the opposite side could assassinate a family member, which wouldn't be that problematic because the family could just forgive them, but it would meant that the aunt could also forgive a nephew or niece that was under the curse, and ruin the families judgment."

"How is forgiveness passed?" asked Hermione.

"A ritual of types," said Draco, "with chanting and blood-letting. You can find it in a few books."

"So this really doesn't help any, does it?" asked Hermione.

"Not really," said Draco.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, sincerely.

"Don't be," said Draco. "The fact that you're trying means a lot to me, so thank you."

Hermione gave him a smile. "Well, I had better go home," she said. "I have to get up bright and early to try on a bridesmaid dress. Good night, Draco."

"Good night," he said. She gave him a quick hug and then went to Floo home.

---------------------------------------------------

To say that the wedding went off without a hitch would be a lie. Minister Lupin, who was conducting the ceremony, arrived fifteen minutes late due to unforeseeable circumstances, Padma's dress was without one sleeve because the tailor hadn't been able to finish it, the large ballroom that was going to be used for the ceremony was horribly charred early Sunday morning because one of the hired cooks had left a candle burning which caught a tapestry.

Draco was not to be deterred. The Minister's tardiness allowed for Mrs. Weasley to be able to take the sleeve off of the dress and add simple silver straps instead and Draco and Pansy spent all of Sunday morning moving decorations out in the marquee, a beautiful canopy of glass and metal lattice work that jutted off of the west wing. There were no walls, just sculpted pillars holding the roof up and the floor was grey, tiled stone. Because it was winter, several advanced heating charms had to be placed, but the house elves had done it before and within two hours the ceiling was decorated with lines of ivy strung through the metal work and the pillars were hung with lilies and white roses.

The marquee was faced the fountain in the backyard, and so Draco had a heating charm put on that as well so the frozen water melted. It was truly beautiful to look out over the snow-covered lawn with the rushing fountain and as the wedding theme was silver, ivory, and frost blue it appeared as though the entire grounds had been decorated to match.

After the extremely harrowing morning Draco put on the tuxedo Padma had finally decided on and checked his reflection in the mirror, casting a charm to hide the black veins on his hands and neck. The grey of the suit matched his eyes perfectly and made his hair look even blonder. He ran to Ginny's room to see how she was doing and found the gaggle of girls from the family all curling their hair and doing make-up. They pulled him into the room to fuss over him, making remarks about 'gold hair and silver eyes' until Ginny took pity on him and sent him away with a kiss.

He found Harry in a right state in one of the guest rooms with Ron and Blaise trying to calm him down while Charlie and Bill merely laughed, Percy snorted, and Fred and George (who were to be paired up with two of Padma's bridesmaid friends) told jokes and juggled their baby blue boutonnières.

What felt like a century later Harry was finally standing nervously at the altar, with Lupin smiling gently down on him and all of the groomsmen lined up behind him. The quartet struck up the music and the procession began. Draco noticed Harry wipe sweaty palms on his pants as the flower-girls and then the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Draco only had eyes for Ginny, who followed Hermione. Her hair was pulled into a low bun, decorated with sprigs of small white flowers and several curls framed her face. The dress was a simple pale blue sheath dress, but with a slight train in the back. She looked absolutely elegant, and absolutely beautiful.

There were gasps when Padma finally appeared, the silver straps really fit the dress and no one could tell it was originally supposed to have sleeves. What was the most striking was the radiant smile on her face, which made the couples there flash back to their own wedding day. Once Padma reached Harry there was a pause so that the photographer (Colin Creevey) could take a few shots, and for everyone else to take in the full affect of five days planning. Harry and Padma both wore white, while Ron, directly behind Harry wore a light grey and Hermione, directly behind Padma wore a pale blue. Draco and Ginny were next in the line up with Draco's suit a shade darker grey and Ginny's dress a shade darker blue. And so it continued with the end couple wearing charcoal grey, that looked silver, and a deep ice blue. With the fading to white color scheme and the fountain in the background and the sun causing the snow to sparkle, it was hailed as a perfect wedding, and while Draco knew the truth, he wasn't going to tell.

After the reception, which went off without a hitch, the guests saw Harry and Padma off on a portkey, decorated with a bow of ivory ribbon, which would take them to a tropical island for two weeks of paradise and then slowly headed home. Later that night Draco lay in bed staring into the dark and then finally the sliver of light as Ginny peeked in, wearing a cute pants and tank top pajama outfit.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

"Yeah," said Draco. She came in and shut the door, then padded across the room in bare feet and slid into bed beside him. She snuggled close and rested her head against his chest.

"I would like a wedding like that," she mused drowsily. Draco stiffened slightly, and she wrapped her arms around him. "But I like you better than any old white dress," she said. He could feel her head turn up to his and he searched in the dark for her mouth, kissing her nose and cheeks in the process before sliding his lips onto hers. He fell asleep with a content smile on his face.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Draco heard a voice down the hall, Ginny's voice to be precise.

"Ohhhh, you are so tan, I'm jealous, I only burn."

"Most of this was a burn," said Padma's voice, laughing. "But it faded."

"So how was it?" Ginny asked.

"Brilliant," said Harry.

"I'm talking about your honeymoon, not the sex Harry," said Ginny, and Draco smirked slightly at that. Harry spluttered and Padma giggled.

"Sunny and hot and perfect," said Padma. "Where's Draco, I have to thank him. Did you know that he paid for the entire trip, and also left a credit card for us to use?"

"I may have helped him," said Ginny. "He's in here, come on."

The door to the sun parlor opened and Ginny came in followed by Harry and Padma, who stopped and stared horror-struck at him. He gave a wry smile.

"Hey, you two lovebirds have fun?" he asked.

"Holy shit," Harry breathed as Padma covered her mouth.

"That bad?" asked Draco. "I heard you tell Ginny that you had a blast."

Harry kept staring at him. "Draco, you look…you look…," he trailed off.

Draco tried not to sigh in annoyance; he knew how he looked. He looked like death warmed over. In the two weeks Harry and Padma had been gone, the curse had struck with a vengeance. He had lost more weight, every inch of fat and muscle gone, leaving his skin stretched over nothing but bone. The black veins had reached both of his hands, all over his entire torso and also up his neck and the left side of his lower cheek. It seemed to have stopped spreading, but the grey area around the scar had spread to cover a fourth of his chest. His hair was once again white and lying limp on a head with gaunt features that made his already angular face even more pointed. Even his eyes seemed dulled, due to the pain that racked his suddenly frail body.

"Devilishly handsome?" Draco asked, his smirk still finding its way onto his lips.

"I was going to say 'like hell', but devilishly handsome is close enough," said Harry, recovering quickly.

Draco gave him a tired smile. "You just missed Ron and Hermione," he said.

"They were here?" asked Harry.

"They come over a lot," said Ginny, coming over to Draco's side to fix the pillows that kept him propped up as he shifted. "They all do."

"Why didn't you contact us?" asked Harry. "We would have come back sooner if-,"

"Harry," said Draco. "I'm dying; it's old news. Besides, I've still got a week or so left."

Harry sat down heavily on the couch across from Draco's sofa. "A week," he muttered to himself. "Why hasn't he come yet?"

"Who?" asked Draco.

"Oh, a friend," said Harry vaguely. They got to discussing the honeymoon and Draco slowly started drifting to sleep, though he couldn't drift off all of the way and stayed in some sort of hazy state.

"How bad is he?" asked Padma quietly.

"Bad," said Ginny softly. "He was fine for a few days after you guys left, but one morning he could barely make it downstairs, and it just got worse. He's been sleeping in the downstairs bedroom, because the doctor's been coming in so often with potions and what not. They help with the pain a little, but there's nothing else to do."

"Pain?" asked Harry.

"The curse basically released some sort of poison in his veins. The black veins is where his untainted blood tried fighting off the poison, but now that the spreading has stopped, it means that his body has stopped fighting, so now it's just a matter of time before the poison takes over and kills him. That's why he got so sick so quickly; he reached critical point where the poison was in greater quantity than his blood, so his body stopped fighting."

"Does he sleep a lot?" asked Padma.

"It's another reason why he's down here," said Ginny. "The family has been coming over to visit, so we just bring Draco in here during the day so that we're not continually moving him when he wakes up to see people."

"How is everyone else taking it?" asked Harry.

"As best they can," said Ginny. "Zak comes here as often as he can, Hermione comes to so she can check the library. Dragon is constantly with Draco, but I think it's hitting Snape the hardest. He's actually coming around later today."

Draco shivered a little, feeling chills creep up on him. He was usually cold, but he felt Ginny tuck another blanket around him then kiss his forehead.

"I love you," she whispered, and he slowly drifted off.

He awoke to soft sobs, and immediately identified them as Ginny's. He struggled to open his eyes, but it required too much energy.

"It's okay to cry," said a smooth voice Draco recognized as his godfather's.

"It just hurts so much when I look at him," Ginny cried, her voice catching and choking out the words. "Sometimes I wish that I didn't love him so much it hurts so bad."

"Love is pain," said Severus. "But we decide what sort of pain it is, if it is the ache of never knowing whatlovet is, or the agony of loving and losing."

"An ache doesn't hurt as much as agony," cried Ginny. "It's not fair!"

"But if we choose the agony, we find that in time it soothes into comfort, and when we think back, all we remember is the sunshine and laughter."

"Alright," said Ginny, a new note in her voice. "There is no way you are saying that just off the top of your head."

"Dumbledore told me that one dark night," said Severus.

"Was he right?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," said Sev, softly. "Yes, he was."

There was silence for a while, then Ginny spoke.

"He loves you," she said.

"I know," said Severus. "I love him too, like he was my own son."

More silence.

"I'm going to get a cup of tea," said Severus. "I'll return in a few moments."

He heard his godfather exit the room and tried again to open his eyes, this time he succeeded.

"Ginny?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

She turned to him, her eyes full of tears, somehow knowing that he had heard the conversation. "Don't say you're sorry," she said, cutting of the apology that was on his lips. "It was worth it; _you _are worth it."

"I love you," Draco whispered. "I love you so much."

"I know," said Ginny, "that's why it's worth it. I could never find anyone else who loves me like you do, and you could never find anyone who loves you like me."

Draco shook his head. "You are so easy to love," he said, his voice quiet. "You are smart, funny, passionate, and so damn beautiful."

"I have an awful temper, I jump to conclusions, and I don't apologize well. I also hit my boyfriend," said Ginny.

Draco laughed, then winced. "It's why you're so perfect," he said.

"Because I'm imperfect?" asked Ginny. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to," said Draco. Ginny moved to lie next to him on the couch. It was a large sofa so there was lots of room. "When I'm dead," Draco began, but Ginny covered his mouth.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said, removing her hand to give him a kiss.

"I just want you to be happy," said Draco. "There is so much I want to give you that I can't. Some lucky bastard is going to meet you one day and he's going to give you your fairytale wedding and a big house on a hill and he's going to make you the happiest woman on earth."

"And you'll be hating him from the grave," said Ginny.

"How can I?" asked Draco. "I'll have no choice but to love him because he makes you smile and laugh and-,"

"Stop," said Ginny, a sob in her voice again.

"I don't want to die, Ginny," said Draco, holding onto her. "Not now. Not when I have you." He buried his head in her hair as she cried, but for some reason the tears in his own eyes wouldn't fall.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

As another week passed, Draco took one more step away from life. His waking moments became more common, but his lucid moments became even scarcer. He was hardly aware of what was going on around him, the pain had to be stifled with more and more medicines that caused the world to slip by like a movie played in fast-forward.

He was aware of a few things. He knew when his godfather was with him by a silky voice that spoke in pleasing and varying inflections. He was able to deduct that he was reading a story from the snippets he caught when the pain forced him further into reality, but the smooth voice seemed to block it out and allow him respite.

He was aware of people sometimes as well, there voices telling him over and over that 'he' was coming to help, he just needed to hang on, but he didn't know who 'he' was or what he was supposed to hang onto.

He was also aware of Ginny, though as days passed he was only aware of a cool, soothing touch when he was plagued by images of a field and a storm, and also of soft whispers that warmed him.

That whisper was there again, but it wasn't soothing, instead it seemed to be full of energy. His world was tilting, and then moving, and there was pain, but then it stopped. The pain allowed him to translate the whisper into 'He's here', but what it meant, he didn't know. There was another whisper, this one saying 'Don't die', and that one he understood.

He was dying, he remembered now, and there seemed to be a harsh wind which must be how death came. He didn't think he wanted to die, so he fought off the wind, but all he could sense was a chanting rhythm and a flash of pain in his hand. There was silence then, and then pain everywhere, but it wasn't just pain, there was a field, with grass, but there was a storm, a voice, an angry voice and the wind reached out to grab him. It hurt, oh _Merlin_, it hurt. The field seemed to be flashing, the voice screaming in his ears, but there was chanting as well again and the chanting was coming from the dark haze.

He was being torn, the storm and the voice grabbing at him, ripping at him, but the chanting and the haze seemed to call him. It was loud, too loud, too loud and too bright, he wanted it all to stop, just to STOP! He froze, eyes focusing in on a small ruby-red butterfly. The butterfly flitted about in the field, then slowly turned towards the haze and was lost among the grey. He took one step towards the haze, and the voice on the wind screamed at him, latching onto him. He jerked free and jumped into the dark. There was a blinding flash of agony, and then the haze descended.

-------------------------------------------------------

The haze was clearing, and clearing out rather quickly, blown away by a stream of pain. His thoughts were murky and muddled and in a desperate attempt to fix it, he snapped open his eyes.

He was in bed, in his bed, and the estate. He blinked, turning his head to meet the twinkling blue eyes of none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Draco," said the old wizard, smiling from underneath his long grey beard. "Or rather, good afternoon. How are you feeling?"

Draco had so many questions running through his mind right then, all he could do was answer the one he knew. "I'm okay," he lied as he answered (he felt like crap), but then he moved onto more pressing matters. "What happened?"

"You nearly died," said Dumbledore. "Seems your father nearly succeeded in bring you to the grave after him. You have Ms. Hermione Weasley to thank for you recovery."

"She found a cure?" Draco asked, voice cracking and rough from disuse.

"No," said Dumbledore. "She found this, the original incantation used to put the curse in the sword." He pulled out the book Hermione had showed him.

Draco frowned. "But that didn't say anything," he said, his confusion managing to make his head throb even worse, a feat he thought was impossible.

"On the contrary," said Dumbledore, "it said a lot. Let me explain." He cleared his throat and read. "'The Betrayal of Faith met with the Betrayal of Blood', which of course is your actions betraying the pureblood's beliefs and your father betraying you by stabbing you. 'The Silver of Steel holds the Curse of Seven Years' which is the dagger obviously. 'The Sentence is Bound with unbreakable chains', which is your death sentence and that it could not be broken because 'When Blood seeks out Blood and when Love casts Death, no Power can stay the Sword'. Now that is referencing the reasons why no one else can help you and finally 'The Judgment of Kin holds True 'lest Forgiveness is passed'."

Draco stared at him.

"Do you see why we were able to break the curse, Draco?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco shook his head.

"It gives the reasons the curse is so strong. 'When Blood seeks out Blood' is one of them. There are precious few things stronger than the ties of family, and when used in blood magic, like the knife, there are even fewer things that can break it, but the key is in the next line 'when Love casts Death'. Do you see it now?"

Draco shook his head again.

"It's love, Draco," said Dumbledore. "When someone loves someone so much to kill them, nothing stands in the way of that curse, just like when someone loves someone so much, they can stop death."

"Harry's mother," said Draco.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore.

"But," said Draco, hopelessly confused, "Lucius didn't love me. He never did."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore again. "In fact, he hated you, so he did not 'cast Death' in Love, but in Hate, and so the curse was not bound in its 'unbreakable chains'. To be sure, Hate is a powerful thing to reckon with, which is why we nearly lost you, but the Love of your new family was more powerful than the blood magic and is much stronger than Hate."

Draco stared at Dumbledore, trying to take it all in. Dumbledore smiled gently at his expression.

"There is someone who has been waiting to speak with you," he said. "So I will let you two converse and then you should take a pain reliever for that headache of yours."

He got up from the chair he was sitting in, but Draco had another question.

"I thought you were on vacation," he said, "and that you were inaccessible."

Dumbledore smiled. "I had a feeling that I would be needed again, so I left Harry with a means to contact me should the need arrive. I came just in time to show Ms. Weasley the loophole in the curse, and save your life, which is indeed worth saving. I am very proud of you, Draco. The things you have done for England is astounding." His inclined his head to Draco, his smile widening. "Good day, Draco."

Dumbledore left the room and Ginny came in, shutting the door quietly behind her. She sat in the chair Dumbledore had vacated.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, taking his hand.

"Okay," said Draco, still trying to work through the fact that after nearly seven years of believing that he was dying, all of a sudden he was fine. "I'm not dying," he said after a while, just to confirm that fact.

"You're not dying," she said, her face splitting into a large smile. "Look at your hands."

He did so. His skin was pale, too pale, but there were no more black marks, though there was a bandage around his hand.

"Your scar is gone too," said Ginny. She pulled down the blankets and helped him pull up his shirt and stare at the smooth unblemished skin of his side.

Draco lay back down on the pillows and let Ginny tuck him back in.

"What happened to my hand?" he asked finally.

"A forgiveness ritual," said Ginny. "With lots of chanting and letting of blood." She held up a hand that was similarly bandaged.

He nodded and stared at the ceiling, brain still trying to get hold of the fact that he wasn't going to die.

"I thought you would be happier," said Ginny.

"I still can't believe it," said Draco. "I-I'm not-,"

"You're not dying," said Ginny.

Draco turned to her. "And you still love me? It wasn't the curse making you fall in love?"

She shook her head, smiling. "I love you, Draco Malfoy. And you are going to give me a big, fairytale wedding, and a house on a hill, though this one's okay too, and you are going to make me smile and laugh and you are going to make me the happiest woman in the world."

Draco's throat constricted and he reached out a hand to her. She took his hand and lay next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He found enough strength to wrap his arms around her, and she tilted her head up to see tears slide from grey eyes.

"I love you," he whispered to her. "I love you so much."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Woot! Epilogue to come in a few days. If you have read this story, and liked it, please leave a review.


	28. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, well, let's just say there are many more possibilities that would be open to me.

Author's note: This is in Harry's POV, because as the story started in his POV, I though it would be a nice ending.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

_Three Years Later, sometime in the summer_

Harry heard a crash coming from the kitchen and he hastily set the screaming infant down in her crib and ran down the stairs, pausing as he passed the picture at the end of the staircase.

It was one of his favorite pictures, with the entire family standing in a row with Draco and Ginny in the middle. All of the girls were in pale green satin dresses holding bouquets of flowers and all of the men were in black tuxedo-dress robes next to their wives. Draco was also in a tux, but he held Ginny in his arms and she was wearing a gorgeous white dress that seemed to come straight from a fairy-tale picture book. The two of them were grinning madly, waving out at him, though sometimes Draco would pull Ginny in for a kiss and sometimes Ginny would whisper in Draco's ear. Harry knew what she was whispering, 'I love you'.

Harry continued onto the kitchen, his mind going back to the events that took place three years ago. Draco had nearly died from his bastard of a father due to some curse. Harry didn't know the exact reason why Draco was alive even though Dumbledore had tried to explain it.

"_The curse was originally used to kill family members -usually sons- who had betrayed the family's belief. Even though the fathers still loved the sons, they still killed them, and that is why the curse was unbreakable."_

"_Like Harry's mother," said Hermione, immediately understanding, though there was precious little she didn't understand. "Except opposite."_

"_Exactly," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Love can protect from death, but it can also cause it. Because Lucius didn't love Draco, he didn't cast the curse in Love, and so the curse was breakable."_

"_So all we had to do was pass forgiveness through the ritual, and even though we aren't Draco's real family, it worked because our love was stronger than Lucius' hate," said Hermione. She noticed Harry's expressions. "It's really quite simple."_

Harry shook his head at that memory, but smiled. Draco and Ginny had gotten married that June, their wedding was the largest the wizarding world had seen in a hundred years. Dumbledore had led the ceremony, the entire family was involved in some way, and as Arthur Weasley was dead, Ginny had Severus walk her down the aisle, much to Draco's delight.

After the wedding, Draco had given Ginny a wedding gift, well, a lot of them, but the one that had her in tears was the large house on a hill. Harry didn't get it; Draco already had a house, but if it made Ginny happy enough to cry, then he wouldn't begrudge her the home. They had then gone on a month long honeymoon that was cut short because of company problems and a merger Draco had to oversee.

Harry passed another picture in the hall, this one of him and Padma and their three kids. The picture was only taken a week ago. Their eldest was Arthur Remus, who was almost three. He had Padma's dark brown hair and dark green eyes. Their second oldest was Sirius James; he really couldn't have any other name. His hair was black and constantly tussled and his eyes were a bright blue. He was one and a half and their youngest, Regina Lily, was only a couple of months old with no real hair yet, but she had his bright green eyes.

He passed the bay windows in the living room, and stopped to watch those outside. Padma, Ginny, Pansy, Faye, Fleur and Hermione were all sipping lemonade and basking in the sunshine watching the others play Quidditch though Hermione had her nose in the book. Mrs. Weasley and Severus were once again referee's of the game while the men were making sure none of the children were going to fall off their brooms. Both Fred and George were watching Zak who was whipping around like a madman and Draco was teaching Dragon how to do a barrel roll.

Harry watched Dragon for a while; the boy was pretty good, though he didn't fly that often. He tended more towards the arts and Blaise and Pansy had enrolled him in painting class. Dragon also spoke now, though he was five before he said a word, and when he did speak it was to the art teacher to tell him that he needed brown paint to tone down the yellow because it was a sunny yellow when he needed to have a darker color.

Harry quickly counted the people outside and discovered two missing children.

That meant the crash must be caused by Sirius James and his favorite playmate.

Sure enough, as he entered the kitchen he saw the tussled black hair of his son, and also the white-blond head of the little boy, only one month younger than Sirius. He also saw the smashed dishes and the squirming red ball in Sirius' grasp.

"Sirius James Potter," said Harry. "What did you do this time?"

Sirius wordlessly pointed to his friend who turned large, innocent amber eyes onto Harry.

"So it's Aidan's fault?" asked Harry.

The kitchen door opened and Ginny came in get another pitcher of lemonade. She stopped when she saw the mess and rounded on the blond child.

"Aidan Delano Malfoy!" she said. "I though I told you to play outside?"

"Too hot," said the child. Harry looked at the kid and figured it was probably the truth. Aidan had inherited his father's pale skin and his cheeks were burned pink and the back of his neck was red.

"I forgot the sunscreen charm," realized Ginny, squatting next to her son and kissing him on the forehead to see if he was over heated. "Next time tell me, okay kiddo?" She pulled out her wand and said the spell. "Now go back outside to play, alright?" Ginny grabbed the pitcher of lemonade and turned to Harry. "Regina up for a nap?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "she really gets cranky."

"Tell me about it," said Ginny. "Can you clean up the mess alright?"

"It's fine," said Harry waving her off. Ginny went back outside and Harry turned to the two toddlers. "I won't yell at you this time because you got too hot outside, but next time let us know instead of just running off, okay?"

The boys nodded.

"Now go take your ball outside where it won't break anything."

Sirius turned to Aidan with a grin, and Aidan smirked. Harry stared, then snatched up the child and ran outside onto the porch.

"Draco!" he yelled to his friend. "Draco, come and see this!"

Draco zoomed over on his broom while the rest of the family gathered around as well, all looking at the child in Harry's arms. Aidan was a cross between Draco and Ginny. He had Ginny's amber eyes, a few freckles across his nose and her smile, but he had Draco's white skin and white-blond hair.

"What is it?" asked Draco landing and looking at his son with a smile. Harry remembered a time when Draco had been afraid to be alone in the same room with Aidan. Ginny told Harry that Draco had an insane fear that he was going to haul off and hit his son, but a blind man could see the absolute devotion Draco had for the boy and Harry knew that Draco would never do that. Draco's love for his son finally over rode his fear and Aidan was on his way to be the most spoiled child in all of England, if he wasn't already.

"Aidan, do it again," said Harry.

Aidan merely raised an eyebrow, one of the more annoying traits he had picked up from his father.

"No, not that," said Harry. "What you did in the kitchen."

"Break a glass?" the boy asked.

"No," said Harry getting frustrated as Draco was also raising an eyebrow at Harry with a condescending air.

Aidan looked at his father with a confused expression on his face, but then looked back at Harry with Ginny's mischievous grin on his lips.

"You're doing this to annoy me, aren't you?" asked Harry.

Aidan smirked. The group of gathered people stared until Draco let out a completely un-Malfoy like whoop, grabbed Aidan from Harry's arms, and spun him around.

"Yes, you are now an official Malfoy," Draco told his son when he stopped spinning. "Give me another smirk."

Aidan did and was immediately 'aww'ed over by all of the women.

"He's an official Malfoy because he smirks?" asked Harry.

"Of course," said Draco, as if this was one of the most obvious things ever. "Your kids will be official Potters when they survive the unsurvivable and rid the world of evil."

The family laughed. Ginny came forward to give Aidan a kiss on the cheek, and then Draco a kiss on the lips.

"I like the smirk," she said.

"Me too," said Padma, coming forward and wrapping her arms around Harry. "It is kinda sexy," she said at Harry's betrayed expression.

"Gonna have to agree with Padma," said Faye. "There's just something about a smirking man."

"It's the truth," said Fleur.

Harry looked at them all in horror. Ginny whispered something in Draco's ear, which Harry knew was 'I love you'. Harry caught his eye and just shook his head; Draco and Aidan smirked.

THE END!

--------------------------------------------------------------

AUTHORS NOTE: Hey, so far all of you who are wondering what I'm writing next. I am not doing a sequel (sorry!). I do not think that I could write one and have enough plotline to take it places. Plus, as this is my first story (yay for firsts!), I'm just glad that it is over and am really sick of it at this moment. I could, I suppose, do a sequel down the line, but don't get your hopes up.

However, I am writing another story as I speak, er, type. It takes place as an alternate sixth year, and it is (hopefully) a different feel from this one (slightly darker, but not to dark because it makes me depressed) because, as a writer, I want to expand and explore new fields. It will focus on Draco ('cause I love him) and will be an action-adventure-drama story. No pairings are planned yet and I will have a beta on this one (!) thanks to Ada Achlys : )

So, I will have the first chapter of the new story up soon, so look out for it!

And thank you to my reviewers:

**Flipinpenname**: I love you too, and thanks for the reviews  
**padfootedmoony**: I'm glad you liked it, I just couldn't kill him off after everything he had done  
**nadzirah**: aww, I'm sorry you cried, hopefully this chapter made you laugh  
**ladyerudite**: this is actually my shortest chapter, sorry there wasn't more, but I'm out of ideas…for this story at least  
**Sonya Kapoor**: with such wonderful reviewers (like you) who leave such kind reviews, I couldn't ask for more…well, I could, but the point is, I am happy because you've all been so nice in your reviews  
**Momentyne**: you do not need to eat less chocolate, there is no such thing as too much chocolate, thanks for the review, it made me smile like this : )  
**Alexandria J. Malfoy**: thanks again for your constant reviews, and I'm glad that you found it full of emotion, that's what I was trying for  
**CoolMilena**: you loved it? Yay, that makes me feel loved, and thanks for reviewing  
**Noxia**: thanks, I'm glad you liked my plot, I was hoping that the economics would make it stand out  
**VidelKM**: hey, thanks for those comments about needing more magic, I'll keep it in mind during my next fic, and for Emmeric, it was more of knowing he was dying, than forseeing an actual death, and Zak and Draco both have Snape as a godfather, so they're 'brothers', thanks for leaving me with so many helpful comments, I really love getting them as they help me write better, thanks so much!  
**Pix**: I'm glad he's alive too!  
**GoldenFawkes**: I though about writing another chapter, or a really long epilogue, but when I sat down to write, nothing came, so I went for the short and poignant approach, hopefully it worked  
**eve**: I'm glad you like D/G now, its always been a fav of mine to, although I also think that hg/dm can work too if done under the right style, thanks for reviewing  
**GPGA**: I have read the visitor, and had to go watch Monty Python so I wouldn't cry, my next story isn't really a pairing, though I could write a sequel for it…this is bad, I'm planning sequels for a fic I haven't even written yet, well thanks for reviewing!  
**avalon64**: I'm sorry, but no sequel, lots of people asked though, and I feel bad, but you can read my other story:-D thanks for reviewing  
**SilvinArrow**: I got a happy dance? Awesomeness, hope you like the epilogue  
**SilverWingPhoenix**: hopefully the explanation in this chapter helps, and thank you for reading a review  
**Angelique Collins**: I'm sorry it's over too, my first fic, all completed, it's kinda sad, but at the same time happy because it over, finally! Thanks for reviewing  
**confusedcowuk**: I'm glad you liked it and thanks for the review  
**louey31**: lol, I think I will take a bow, thanks for being a constant reviewer, it means a lot to me!  
**Wizzabee**: thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad you liked it  
**emir**: sorry, I missed mentioning you in my last chapter, didn't even see your review and I'm sorry, don't be mad, and thanks for the review, it means a lot to me!

And to anyone else I forgot and to all of those who reviewed at one time or another, THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH! This fic is done!


End file.
